Blood Bonds
by Mistress of DarkSerpents
Summary: After slaying Viktor, Selene has no choice but to run from friend and enemy alike with the hybrid Michael by her side. On their journey, Michael discovers more about his past, and Selene's past resurges to haunt her with memories that may or may not have to deal with Michael. The pair that loves together, kills together.
1. Control

**Chapter 1: Control**

Selene frowned when she heard the loud crunch sound! from under her boot. She lifted her foot up and saw that she'd stepped on a skull, the white shards lay in pieces, but she guessed it had been human.

_Guess I missed that one._

The catacombs should come as a little surprise to be filled with bones such as these, especially these human bones. Who knew how many people had died in here? Perhaps some had been killed for reasons unknown?

She began moving again, walking briskly, a woman on a mission. Though, it really wasn't a _mission_ per se, but more of an investigating matter. She had come to this cave for two reasons: the sun had been close to rising and she needed shelter, and since she would be in here until nightfall, she may as well explore this place.

The catacombs were dark and dank, filled with vermin and insects skittering about. Spiderwebs clung to the walls and ceilings like thick sticky veils, and they would sometimes hamper her progress.

_Among other things,_ she thought wryly. She was not alone in these catacombs. Michael Corvin, the only vampire-lycan hybrid they knew of, trailed after her. He stepped on many more skulls than she, snapping the bones and increasing her irritation.

_I hope there isn't anyone here who can here that_, she mused, flinching when Michael stepped on a skull, and then followed up with crushing a rib bone when he jumped in surprise.

_Maybe clumsiness was something that was passed on to him, even when he became a hybrid_.

For an instant, she remembered biting him as he lay dying of silver nitrate after Kraven, the bastard, shot him. She remembered her lips against his neck, and then the unbelievable sensation of tasting his blood, even if tainted by the werewolf curse. Living on cloned blood had starved her of the real thing for far too long, and it had taken much of her control to not drain him dry then.

After bestowing her crimson kiss upon him, Michael had begun to change into an entirely new creature. Confronting Viktor, she had not seen him change first into a lycan but then . . . the change had begun to regress. She had not seen what happened, but something that changed everything had happened to him. Then there was that heart-stopping moment when he had stood before Viktor, a snarl on his face, looking more human than werewolf, but more demon than vampire. A creature of the union of the bloodlines, something everyone thought of as unheard of, impossible, or inconceivable.

"Why are we here, exactly?" Michael asked as they continued to walk through the catacombs. He sounded tired, she realized, worn out. It had been two nights since that rather fateful night in the underworld, the bunker the lycans had lived in. Michael was both vampire and lycan, but stronger than both as the scientist had said. But . . . he would still need to feed. Which though? Blood or flesh?

_Or both,_ she thought. _H__e probably could just devour a human._

_B__ut he's better than that._

"We need a place to hideout for the day. Sunrise is upon us," answered Selene. She was grateful that they had found this cave, else she would have been trapped outside, with the sun's rising so close . . .

"So, a cave, then," he remarked.

_Were you expecting a five-star hotel?_

"As unappealing as it is, it will have to do." Selene said. _I don't want to go up in flames merely because you can't spend a night on a cave floor._

Michael did not complain, but hurried to keep up. Selene was impressed with how long he had stayed with her now; she had half expected him to run off after everything he'd been through. It was certainly enough to traumatize a normal human. But Michael was no longer human.

A certain area on the wall of the cave to her left caught her attention. Selene walked toward it. Upon closer examination, it appeared that a part of the wall was out of place. It was . . . door-shaped, a large door, but what was it? She ran her hand along the cool wall, thinking.

Michael came to her side, staring at the wall with a bored expression. He didn't seem to see what she saw. He rubbed his eyes.

_He needs rest, _she observed with mild concern, ignoring her own exhaustion. In truth, if he really did need to feed, then she was surprised that he hadn't passed out by now. From past experience, Selene remembered her first craving for blood when Viktor first turned her, and she knew after six-hundred years of being a Death Dealer, that younger lycans needed to feed at least every night, until they learned how to control themselves and their cravings.

"What if this is one of those walls that turn around, like in those _Indiana Jones _movies?" Michael guessed. He made a twirling motion with his finger, indicating what he meant.

Selene just stared at him.

"Right," he said in understanding. "You probably don't know what I'm talking about." He glared at the wall with tired brown eyes. "I'll probably just mess myself up, but let me show you."

He took a step back and Selene backed away, watching with interest. Michael yawned and then stepped forward, a fist cocked back to punch, and slammed it into the wall.

They both stared at the wall expectantly.

It trembled under the force of the blow of a hybrid, and then dust rained down from it. Then, as if by magic, the wall slowly revolved, exposing a pitch-black space. Without any sort of communication, they entered the space. The wall finished revolving and thudded back into place.

_I hope we're not trapped here_. Selene didn't expect all of that to have happened, nor did she expect Michael to come to that conclusion. Something he probably saw from a movie. This place could have been built centuries ago, without her kind knowing of it. She wondered who created it; vampire or werewolf.

It was dark, darker than the catacomb. The darkness pressed on their eyes like a black blindfold before Selene's vampire eyes adjusted instantly, and she stepped forward.

There was clicking-sizzling noise reached their ears when she moved, and then light sparked all around. Torches mounted on the walls in brackets came to life, sputtering red and orange flames, providing light and revealing the room's contents.

"Well . . . huh," muttered Michael.

It looked like a small royal chamber, complete with a plush red blankets sprawled out all around, colored cushions, and two mattresses. Furniture lined the walls, bookcases, dressers and a small table.

_Much better than a cave floor,_ Selene thought in approval. She glanced at Michael who looked very pleased with his discovery.

"We'll stay here for the time being," she said.

* * *

Half an hour later, they had made themselves at home. Selene had placed her twin Berettas on the table and discarded her trench coat, laying it on the unclaimed mattress. Michael sat with his legs crossed on the other one, watching her. Walking about in her skintight leathers, Selene examined the bookcase. Dusty tomes and volumes lined the shelves, promising interesting reading for later on. Deciding that she would read the books after she rested, she went to Michael, kneeling on the edge of his makeshift bed.

"Michael," she murmured. "How are you feeling?"

He blinked fitfully, as it trying to stay awake. "I dunno, kind of worn out. Feel like I could sleep for a year or two."

"You need to feed."

His brown eyes focused dimly on her. "What?"

"You are half-vampire and half-lycan, Michael," she said softly, placatingly. Best to take it gentle with explaining to someone that they are a new creature no one has ever heard of. "You're a new breed; there's never been a hybrid before. I've been thinking, we do not exactly know of what you need to live on."

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, holding out his hands like a stop sign. "You mean, since I'm . . . what you said, I have to eat people?"

She disregarded the alarm in his voice. "I'm not saying that, but you need to feed, flesh or blood. Just something to keep you alive."

"_Why?_"

She felt her face shut done, and knew it would like it was carved out of stone. "Michael, your humanity will war with the animal inside. We all have it, we all fight that inner beast. If you do not anticipate its and your cravings, who knows what will happen. My guess is that you will go on a rampage, slaughter and kill, and I don't want to be in the midst of that. Now, it seems that your humanity is strong, but that might be because you are getting weaker; and don't say you aren't, I see how tired you are."

Michael was silent after her lengthy explanation. She stared at him. Even though his face was drawn with utter exhaustion, she couldn't help but notice his rugged good looks. His light brown hair was slicked back, still wet from the snow that had melted in it from outside. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, and, with her being so close, she felt the chill that had settled into her undead bones fade.

_He's attractive, for a human,_ had been Erika's words when they had been looking at Michael's picture from Nigel's digital camera. Selene did not know if she agreed, for she'd been so focused on why the lycans were interested in him, but now, she noticed just how handsome he was.

"All right," he said, and she stopped her staring. "If I need to _feed_ so damn badly, how am I going to do that? Have a spare human handy, do you?"

Not appreciating his sarcasm, she pushed the sleeve of her leather fighting gear up on her left arm. Raising it to her mouth, she parted her jaws and sank her fangs lightly into her flesh. Just enough to get a steady stream of blood, not a spurting red geyser, she bit her wrist, ignoring the sharp sting. Michael stared, wide eyed.

"I will be a substitute," Selene muttered. "Now drink." She extended her hand and scooted a little closer.

A confusing array of emotions flickered across his face as he stared at her bleeding wrist. Repulsion, horror, anger, wonder and . . . longing, hunger. He gently took her wrist in both of his hands.

"I have to?"

"Drink," she commanded firmly.

Selene watched as a look came across his face. His eyes flashed, and changed into the hybrid black color. The silence was disturbed with a bestial hiss, and she realized it was issued from Michael. Quick as a flash, he bit into her bleeding wrist, obeying not only her, but his need.

Michael immediately began sucking down her blood with abandon, like a dehydrated man who desperately needed water. He tightened his grip on her arm, and Selene flinched when his sharp teeth dug into her flesh, drawing more blood.

_He needs this,_ she told herself, refusing to pull away. _He needs it to live, as do you._

She felt his warm tongue lap greedily at the small wound, and heard his low feral moan. Finally, his inner beast was getting what it needed. The blood just crazed him further and he began drinking more roughly.

"Ah," she gasped softly, and then quickly bit her lower lip, preventing any other sound from escaping her lips. Her instincts begged her to pull away. Maybe she should, if she didn't want to be drained dry.

Her small pained gasp seemed to bring Michael back to reality. He shuddered, loosened his hold on her arm, and licked the wound lightly and finally let go. His eyes faded from jet-black to brown.

Selene felt weak, drained. She had let him take too much, but he needed it. Already he looked better: the dark circles under his eyes looked less drastic, and his cheeks looked flushed. She pulled her arm away and moved to her own pathetic makeshift bed. Part of her rational mind wanted to back away from the blood-crazed hybrid, if he still was like that, but she was too tired.

"Better now?" she asked.

Michael licked his lips and nodded. "I am. Thank you." He looked at her with concern, and then his eyes widened. "Oh . . . please don't tell me I took too much."

Not to sure how to answer that, she said, "I'll be fine."

Michael looked deeply troubled and upset. "Selene, I'm sorry. Really. I tried to fight . . . _it_, but it was just too strong." He was utterly sincere, and sounded awfully regretful.

She gave him a knowing look, all too familiar with what he was feeling. Six-hundred years had given plenty of experience, but she knew what he was feeling.

She lay down on the mattress and curled up on her side, her back facing the wall. Her eyelids drooped and sleep beckoned to her enticingly.

"We all fight for control, Michael."

***Thank you so freaking much for reading! **

**This, being my first story on here, was a bit awkward to write. I love the Underworld series and the Selene-Michael relationship. This story will continue, if anyone is wondering, and I already have a few other chapters up. They probably suck in the beginning, but I'll work on updating them and making them hopefully better. My writing may not be New-York times best seller, but I enjoy it, once I really get into it.**

**If you could, and I'm probably asking for a lot, could you PLEASE give a review? I deeply appreciate them; I love hearing what you guys and girls think. Or it could be anything" thoughts, suggestions, comments, or whatever. So please, please, please, I beg of you, dear readers, give a review?**

**Anyways, hope this was enjoyable~**


	2. Thoughts of The Hybrid

Chapter 2: Thoughts of the Hybrid

_What have I done?_

Michael stared at Selene as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, saying no more. He listened to her breathing, hearing it go from its regular rhythm to a deeper and slower pace. She must have been exhausted, falling asleep so quickly. She was curled up, like in a fetal position, still clothed in her skintight leathers. She hadn't pushed down her sleeve yet, and he couldn't help but see the puncture marks on her pale-white skin; from her own fangs . . .

_And mine,_ he thought. He couldn't deny it: fangs had slid from his gums, sinking into her flesh, allowing more blood to flow.

The wound was already healing, looking nonexistent, and that eased him some. Blood dripped from a closed bite mark, before her skin became unmarked and perfect once more.

Michael remembered the taste of her blood all too well. He remembered the sensation of her cool blood rushing down his throat, as refreshing as a mountain stream. But besides the wonderful sensation of his drinking her blood, he couldn't help but remember how he wanted to keep drinking, to not let go of her wrist, to suck down every last drop of her delicious blood . . .

But then, she had uttered a small gasp, pain evident in her voice. As lost as he was in the blood-craze, his mind had registered that he was hurting her. The . . . _beast_ inside him had roared in protest, but he shut it up and released her, having his fill. He didn't want to cause her pain.

_The fact that I was so . . . willing to drink from her, and to not want to stop,_ he thought in anguish. Oh _my__ God, I'm . . . I'm an animal._

It was true; there was no denying it. After what had happened in the underworld, he felt so much stronger, so much alive. It was like the world had opened to him, and with his new strength and keener senses, he was able to explore it with no fear at all.

But, did that come at a price?

His eyes had not left Selene's sleeping face in that time of mental brooding. He realized that now, deep in sleep, her expression softened, relaxed. It lost the hard, feral fierceness of the Death Dealer she was. Her lips parted slightly, and he glimpsed the pointed tips of her fangs. Her dark brown hair was splayed about her head alluringly.

Even in sleep, she was beautiful.

Michael sighed quietly. His life had changed so damn dramatically: he'd lost his human status, and now all he had left to depend on was this woman, this vampire, Selene.

_She _is_ all I have left. The only one I can trust,_ he mused. _I don't care if she's partly responsible for what happened to me . . ._

Selene had apologized a little while after they had begun their travels, expressing a small amount of remorse. She had said that their was no going back, that this what they had now and that they must deal with it. Michael had said it was fine, that he had forgiven her, that he hadn't been ready to die . . .

_I wasn't ready to die,_ he admitted to himself. _Not then, not with her there . . ._

He wondered why exactly Selene had saved him. He obviously felt something for her, he couldn't deny it, couldn't really overlook it. He remembered when he first saw her, in the Metro Station, before the shootout. Brief as it was, the time he had to look at her, he had instantly been attracted to her. He had almost been in a trance, like she had a hypnotizing affect on him. Of course, he thought that she was just some other hot European chick, nothing more.

Then, he's thrown into a huge shit fight between what Selene had told were vampires and lycans. He wouldn't have believed it at any other time. (Like hell he would have!) But then he did get bitten by the crazy madman, experienced weird symptoms that were caused by no explainable illness, witnessed levitating hissing women, taken hostage . . . And after all of that happened, he thought he only had one person to ask for help, one person he thought he could kind of depend on. Selene, whose name meant something like the celestial moon, had a tidal pull affect on him, just like the moon. He kept on being pulled in to that weirdness . . . and it was always to her.

Being pulled to her had filled his head with a bunch of hard-to-believe stuff. Apparently, he was turning into one, a werewolf. At least he had been. Selene had said that she should have killed him. He'd been becoming her enemy, had he not? But she said that she wanted to find out why the lycans wanted him so badly.

Was there an underlying reason, though?

Being alone with her should have been a different experience. He should have . . . well, he didn't know what he would have done, but he should have done _something_ other than recounting tales of the past with her. But, back at that safe house, he had seen some of her defenses fall, some hidden part of her had emerged. She told him why she hated lycans so badly. Michael could hardly blame her. Seeing her family so suddenly and brutally killed by the ravaging werewolves? It was no wonder she enjoyed snuffing out their lives like a candle.

Until, that is, she learned the truth.

Selene had asked Michael who the woman in one of his photographs was; she had seen it when she was snooping about in his apartment. He had numbly summoned possibly the worst day of his life, the worst moment of his life. His love, Samantha, killed in a car crash, seeing the lights leave her eyes, and he could do nothing . . . So he left the States. Why stay, if it was a place of sorrow and regret? He needed something new, an escape, a chance to move on. No reason to stick around, he left, trying to move on.

But then Selene had asked perhaps the most vital, personal question. Had he moved on? Michael couldn't help but wonder, _had_ he? He didn't know, so he quickly shot back by asking if she had. He truly didn't believe that she had, and nor did he. They both had wounds of the past, open and bleeding, sore and unable to heal . . .

_And she's had what, six-hundred years to try to get over it?_ Michael wondered. _I've only had a few months. But it's like the death of people you love, it still haunts us . . ._

Michael couldn't help but think that, technically, he was an immortal now, too. He was a lycan, briefly, and then he had the vampire strained injected into him, making him some sort of freaking weird-ass hybrid creature. Then again, it was hard to think about living forever. For one reason, if he truly was an immortal, who would walk the lonely road of immortality with him? And for another reason, how could he think of living forever, when there seemed to be enemies coming from every direction. (Getting to these catacombs had been no walk in the park) They had people wishing them dead. Vampires and lycans alike!

_Hard to believe how much everything's changed, _he thought settling back onto his own mattress, tired enough to sleep for a year or two. _It's like . . . dominoes. One falls, then another, and the chain continues . . ._

Even though he was tired, he didn't sleep. Instead, he watched Selene as she slept. Why was he so captivated with watching a sleeping vampire? Maybe he expected it to be in the more traditional way. Straight as a plank, with hands folded on her chest in some coffin. But now, she looked so peaceful, and, (though she'd never admit it and though he would never admit it to her) vulnerable.

Part of him yearned to touch her. Stroke her hair, hold her as she slept, but he knew not of how she would react. He remembered wryly how she had pointed her Beretta at him in her Jaguar after dragging him away from his apartment. She had been hurt, by Lucian's spring-loaded blade, and insisted that she was fine, but then she just passed out at the wheel and drove the car into the Danube.

_All I wanted to do was help her,_ he thought bitterly. _Tend to her wound._ _Who knows how she'd act if I . . . touched her._ He wondered vaguely if the phrase "bit my head off" had limitations with her.

Michael couldn't blame her. Selene was a Death Dealer, and she had the instincts of a warrior, and she hardly trusted anybody. Slaying lycans for a span of six-hundred years probably just made her the cold-hearted vampire, kick-ass assassin she was today. So any gushy emotion was out, even if just a simple touch that offered it.

_What kind of relationship do we have?_ Michael wondered. Finally, sleep encroached him, lurking on the edges of his subconscious. _Do we even have one?_ He closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side to look at Selene before he fell asleep.

_Some part of me just doesn't want to know_.

* * *

The next morning, or at least, that's what he took it as, Michael awoke, groggy and stiff. He was lying on his belly, one arm slung over the mattress. He blinked fitfully, before sitting up and yawning a lung-bursting, jawbreaking yawn.

_Morning already?_

Done yawning, he glanced over at Selene's mattress; which was empty. Curious, he glanced around the room, or whatever they were in, and was relieved to see her sitting at the small table, pouring over a large book. Still clothed in her leathers, her hair hung in a dark brown veil around her lovely face. Michael stood and made his way over to her, and sat on the other end of the table.

Selene slid her eyes up from the book for a second, and then went back to reading the book, showing little interest in him.

_Is she mad?_

"Morning," Michael offered, after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Yes," she muttered cooly.

_Wow,_ he thought with mild sarcasm. _She's obviously in a good mood this morning. _He gave her a once-over glance, examining her body-language. _I'd definitely say she's mad. Perfect._

Michael leaned forward, wondering what she was so interested in. He had seen the books last night when they had found this place, but he hadn't cared; probably because he needed blood.

"Hey, Selene," he started, shyly, awkwardly. "I should apologize for last night. I really am sorry . . ."

"Take a look at this, will you?" she said suddenly, flipping the book around so that he could see whatever it was.

Just a bit annoyed, he looked down at the book. On the faded and wrinkled ancient page was a bunch of words in tiny print. Were he reading it with his old dull human eyes, he would have needed a magnifying glass, but his new eyes saw the words easily. The words made little sense, and he frowned at the page with a confused expression, before Selene's white finger stabbed at the other page.

_Right_. He focused his attention there.

This page, however, did not have words. It had a picture. Someone had put a lot of detail into this, seeming to have had a good time drawing this. The picture showed a war, or an intense battle. Men in armor, upon noble steeds, charged at the enemy, brandishing thick broadswords made of silver. Subhuman beasts rushed at the men, most likely vampires, slashing at them with clawed paws, and biting with razor-sharp fangs. Some of the creatures were fully transformed into their wolf form, and they were shown easily decimating the vampire army with furious tooth and claw.

"What is this?" Michael asked.

Selene got up and walked to his side of the table with grace, and then crouched beside him. He was surprised by her closeness, but she probably thought nothing of it. Michael inhaled, and was overwhelmed with her scent, which smelled of vanilla and cinnamon. Her scent was delicious, beautiful, and inhaled again, tasting it.

_Who knew vampires smelled good? But, damn, she does._

"I was looking at this," Selene said, drawing his attention away from her back to the book. She pointed at a part in the picture. Above the gory battle was a moon, a full moon. That wasn't too weird, but the symbol on the moon was. It looked like a pentagram, but it was more intricate and exotic. "This symbol," Selene continued. "I've seen it before."

"When?" asked Michael.

Selene sat up and looked away, seemingly interested in the wall off to the side. Michael looked at her in concern. Some unknown feeling washed through him, and he acted on some weird impulse and casually draped an arm around her shoulders. Unsurprisingly, she flinched and stiffened, but she didn't draw back from the contact. He felt her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed and then said:

"I can't be sure . . . but I've seen it before. In a memory . . . a memory from my childhood."

* * *

**Thanks for reading my work once again!**

**Thrilled, if I may say, to see how many hits my story has been getting. Granted that I'm updating these a few weeks after posting, I'm just happy to see how many people have actually spared their time to read my work! Again, can I beg for reviews, even just a word or two? It can be anything: your thoughts, suggestions, comments, or whatever. (and yeah, I'm basically begging here)**

**Thanks~**


	3. Prey and Predator

**Chapter 3: Prey and Predator**

The lycan raised his head and sniffed the air greedily, nose twitching.

Hmm. The scent was . . . a day old, but they had certainly passed through here.

_Success,_ the beast thought, still able to form human thoughts in his wolf form.

He turned, swiveling his large head around, and looked at his pack. They hid in the shadows, lurking behind bushes, crouching down lowly, and standing guard high up in treetops. They awaited his command, silently, if not impatiently.

He growled deep in his throat, signaling and ordering at the same time. His pack members snarled in response, eagerly obeying the Alpha. At least twelve in number, they swarmed around him and began moving, rushing right by him, following the scent.

The Alpha watched his pack run in the direction of the scent, either erect on their hind legs or down on all fours. They were focused on the hunt, and once the prey had been scented, there was no breaking their concentration.

The scent was of a vampire, and by the slightly floral aroma its skin carried, the werewolf would say it was a female. The other scent was male, easy to determine, and he was a lycan.

That was mainly what drew this pack out here, the scent of one of their kind, Able to detect and smell the presence of another lycan, they would of course be able to find it.

What frustrated the Alpha was that this particular lycan was with the vampire. Was it captured? Or was the vampire dragging its corpse somewhere for reasons unknown? It confused him, and was slightly interested ti find out.

The Alpha loped after his pack, heavy paws thumping on the ground, and was pleased when he heard a howl break the early morning's silence: they had been found. The lycans ran even faster.

Lycans were werewolves, who were canines, thought of to be dogs. But these creatures were not silly household pets, they were bloodthirsty animals, who fought with tooth and claw!

_But still, _the Alpha reflected. _We do find the killing fun, like a game._ Another howl tore through the air, and other pack members echoed it, scaring the forest-dwellers.

Time to play.

* * *

Michael looked up in alarm when he felt a cold feeling enter his being. Every hair on his arms seemed to stand up, as if electrified. Selene looked at him concern when she felt his body stiffen, muscles tensing.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, unsure, confused. "But I feel like something's wrong."

Selene frowned and then stood, removing the arm he had wrapped around her shoulders. Michael was a hybrid, with unparalleled senses and instincts. If he thought that something was wrong, she wasn't going to just blow it off.

Michael rose, seeming like he wasn't even aware of his actions. He looked tense, alert, and edgy. Selene quickly catalogued those reactions and tried to file them into an explanation.

It didn't take her long.

"Michael, I don't know if I have told you this, but because you have part lycan in you, _they_ will be able to sense you."

He looked at her with wild eyes. "What?"

Selene picked up her trusty Berettas and holstered them. "Lycans can always sense the presence of their kind. So, if you're like this, then they must be near." _Dammmit_, she thought. "And you are sensing them; your body knows recognizes them." _It did not take them long to track us down._

Ignoring his questioning stare, she walked to the wall that had revolved yesterday, and hoped that it would do the same today. If it didn't, then they would be stuck here, but then they would also be partially protected from the lycans if and when they were found.

_Oh, well,_ she decided with cool judgement._ I'd rather fight then cower behind a wall._ Looking cold and determined, she fisted her right hand, pulled it back, and slammed it into the wall, just as Michael had.

The wall didn't do anything at first, but then it shuddered, dust fell from it, and then it began to revolve slowly. Her vampire strength was just as good as Michael's hybrid strength. Selene sprinted out of the room and Michael followed her. The wall thudded back into place behind them.

Once in the catacombs, Selene saw that at the entrance sunrise was very close. She glanced at her expensive wristwatch, and saw that it was already nearing six o'clock. The sky was gray, cloudy, but her vampire eyes could see some tiny rays of sunlight piercing through the clouds.

Michael, unaware of her situation, walked hurriedly to the entrance of the catacombs, crushing skulls and bones in his wake, and stood a little bit away from the mouth of the cave, away from sight. He was so edgy, she noticed. The presence of his once-kin set him on edge so much, he seemed ready to jump out of his skin, to say.

And she couldn't blame him when the chorus of howls ripped through the air.

_By the Elders'!_ Selene thought. _They're close!_ And she didn't miss the plural she'd used, for she could tell it was not just _one_ lycan. Too much to hope for.

"Selene," Michael started to say.

"I know," she said brusquely. "We have no choice but to fight them."

Teeth on edge, she unsheathed one of her Berettas and walked to stand across from Michael. She looked out, taking in the scenery, and looking for the lycans. The catacombs were up on a cliff, which they had scaled the day before. The forest surrounding the cliff-cave, she noticed, was eerily silent. Perhaps the forest-dwellers knew of the appoaching threat.

_Smart animals._

For a moment, it was silent, and then a snarl sounded from below, and they both looked down, alarmed and on guard. A lycan was standing at the bottom of the cliff, glaring up at them, black fleshy lips pulling back to expose yellow, dripping fangs. Two other lycans quickly joined it, and Selene wondered if these beasts were alone, or if there were more.

_I don't want to find out,_ she thought, inching to the entrance of the cave, raising her weapon. She took aim, and furiously fired off a round of silver bullets. They struck the lycan in the front in a quick succession, and the creature yelped in pain, and then growled in fury. Selene fired again, and crimson spurted from its chest, and it fell to the ground, writhing, before falling still.

While she had been killing that one, its comrades had begun their way up the cliff, scaling it with their dagger-like claws with preternatural speed. She whipped out her other Beretta and madly fired at them. She hit one, and it lost its grip on the rocky wall, and plummeted down to the ground, shot full of silver.

_Two down, one to go._

She made quick work of shooting the other werewolf, but the creature zig-zagged out of the way, all the while nearing the top. Selene backed away, and Michael was wise to do the same. A clawed hairy paw gripped the edge of the cliff, and then a werewolf boosted itself onto the ledge. It was huge, having the proportions of a giant. Its tufted ears brushed agaisnt the ceiling. It bared its yellow fangs and a deep growl rumbled low in its chest.

This did not surprise Selene. Lycans could only growl, snarl, howl, etc. But what amazed her was that there was another growl, and it sounded close, like it was beside her. She turned, and her narrowed eyes widened a tiny fraction.

Michael was glaring baefully at the lycan with jet-black eyes. She saw fangs slide from his gums when he bared them in a feral snarl. Impatiently, he ripped off his jacket and shirt underneath as his body gained muscle rapidly, the clothing becoming too tight to contain his proportions. His skin now bare, it took on a bluish-gray, leathery tint. His hands curled into taloned paws, and, the transformation complete, he let loose with a roar.

The lycan roared back and lunged at him.

With his hybrid strength, he was able to brace himself and grab the lycan to keep his balance, but were he human he would have been thrown to the far side of the cave. The werewolf attacked, snapping its fangs at Michael's neck. He grunted under the weight of the beast, before throwing it off him, and then leaping at it. He slashed left and right at the creature's hairy body, when he crashed into it and they fell to the ground, and blood spattered the walls like red paint. The werewolf howled in pain when Michael thrust his clawed hand into the creatures shoulder, severing muscle and tendons. Victory in his grasp, he used his other hand and thrust it into the creature's chest, and Selene heard a peculiar squishing noise, and wildly guessed that Michael had destroyed the heart.

Michael stood and withdrew his bloodied hands, breathing heavily just a little. The beast was dead, they could both tell, but the fight had been little over a minute.

Selene wanted to mull over that, but she knew that she couldn't waste time doing that now. They had to get out of here, in case there were more lycans, and if there were, they had to get away.

"We have to get out of here," she said to Michael urgently, rushing to cave's entrance. In the distance, she heard heavy paws beating on the earth, and ragged breaths. Damnation. There were more of them.

Without slowing down, she jumped off the edge of the cliff, her black trench coat billowing out behind her like giant bat wings. Gravity seized her, and she plummeted down like a meteor towards earth. She landed only two seconds later, the landing not even stunning her at all or breaking her stride. She ran to the edge of the forest, and looked at the cave's ledge impatiently. However, Michael had just jumped, and he fell gracefully, and then landed in a crouch, before darting to her side. They both then ran into the forest.

Selene had no idea if Michael could talk in this form, so she just hurriedly explained, "We need to put as much distance between them and us as possible. I wouldn't say this if were one or two, but it sounds like we have a pack after us. If we can just make them lose our trail, then we should be all right for the time being."

Michael made some kind of growling sound, and she took that as an agreement.

The forest was slowing turning lighter. The darkness being chased away by the light from the rising sun and the moving clouds. Daylight was a hands breath away, and if she was outside then, she'd be burnt to ashes. Also, if she stayed outside, the lycans would probably catch up with them no doubt. Even though the vampiress and hybrid were running as fast as their supernatural speed allowed, the lycans were much faster, and they had scented the prey and were into the hunt, which just added to their whimsy determination.

Selene wondered what would kill her first: The sun or the lycans?

***Can I ask for a review, please? What do you think of my fighting writing-style? Too much, too little? I'd like to hear your thoughts please~**


	4. Fight and Flight

**Chapter 4: Fight and Flight**

_Run, run, run, as fast as you can! You can't escape me, I'm the wolf-man!_

The lycan thought this in wild excitement, in his element. The hunt, the chase, the thrill of it all. He galloped on all fours, his heavy paws beating on the frozen ground. The forest surrounded him, as did the scents of it, but he just focused on the scent of the vampire bitch and the freak . . . whatever it was. They were in front of him, running for their lives, but he wouldn't let them get away, not after the way his werewolf brothers had been slaughtered. He had only gotten a glimpse at the bodies at the foot of the cliff, but he knew a dead lycan when he saw one.

_They're dead,_ he thought savagely, urging himself to go faster. _I'll tear them apart with my own claws._

His pack brothers ran beside him and behind him, all keen on catching up to the prey. He heard their heavy panting, their growls. He wondered briefly where the Alpha was, but then that thought quickly left his mind; why worry about the Alpha, when the prey was just up ahead? He already felt the sensation of his jaws closing around their bodies, his fangs sinking into their flesh. His mouth watered at thought of cracking their bones and eating the marrow as well as the rest of the bodies, a proper feast for one such as he.

The vampire's scent burned his nostrils, but that just meant that he was close. He put on an extra burst of speed, going deeper into the forest. They were up ahead . . . so close . . . he made a turn . . .

Gone.

The lycan skidded to an abrupt stop, breathing heavily. What? How could they disappear? The scent was strong, he could've sworn he heard their heartbeats. He growled, saliva hanging from his jaws, and righted himself onto his hind legs. The prey could not have escaped! This was bullshit! He looked, left, right, down . . .

"Above, mutt!"

His head shot up, and he saw the vampire female jump out of a tall oak tree. What the hell? With stunning speed, she whipped out two guns and began firing them. White-hot silver blasted into the lycan repeatedly, and he yelped and snarled in pain and fury.

_No!_ he thought, feeling the hated silver burn in his body, which thrashed wildly under the barrage of bullets. _Not now! So close!_

Bam, bam, bam, went the gun, and down went the lycan, in front of his pack, in the midst of the hunt . . .

It seemed a fitting end.

* * *

Michael jumped when he heard the sound of a gun going off; damn, those lycan caught up fast. But it sounded like Selene was taking care of them. He grabbed onto the tree branch he was crouching on, steadying himself, and listened. Now in his hybrid form, his hearing was ten times stronger, as his other senses. His reflexes, too. If they weren't, that lycan in the catacombs would have finished him off.

Despite their situation, Michael was still amazed at how _fast_ he had changed form, faster than any lycan. It was so instinctive, so easy, natural, just like breathing. Plus, the fact that they were in danger, that _Selene_ was in danger, just added to it, whatever it was. That lycan in the cave, if he had any intent of hurting Selene, which it probably did, was dead in his eyes.

And dead it was.

Michael stood up and sprang off his tree branch and onto another, and then did it again, going to where he'd heard the gunfire. Taking to the trees, that had been quite ingenious. Selene had said it, as a last minute plan, to try to not lose the lycans, just to confuse them. Involved as they were in the hunt, seeing them magically "disappear" would make them stop, and quite literally sitting ducks.

He leapt onto another branch, and the scent of blood assailed his nostrils. It was lycan blood, which he noted with relief, for it was not Selene's immortal blood. Though it disturbed him, the thought of blood made his mouth water, but the scent of lycan blood was quite unappealing. _Gross_. He inhaled, and, mixed in with scent of the wolves, he smelled Selene's scent, which he would swear he would have recognized anywhere. Knowing that he must be near to her, he picked up the pace.

A few feet away, Selene had just landed on the ground with a cat's grace, after shooting a lycan which toppled to the forest floor, writhing in agony. The creature roared, but was quickly shot with another few bullets, which promptly ceased its vocalizations. Michael heard growling in the distance, and knew that the other lycans were close, sensing what were one his kind. His black eyes narrowed, and he spotted them in the distance, rushing in undoubtedly their direction. He quickly counted, _one, two, three_ . . . and determined that there was six of them.

_Wonder if Selene feels like sharing,_ Michael thought wryly. He saw her glance where he was looking and nodded a fraction of an inch. She ejected the magazine of her Beretta and slammed a fresh one in, ready to pump the lycans full of silver.

The werewolves, from what he could see from his perch, were circling them. They had stopped running madly, and were slowly drawing closer, inch by inch. Did they know of his whereabouts? Or where they only concerned about Selene?

_Don't know, don't care__,_ Michael decided. _Don't think, just act._ Movement in his peripheral vision caught his immediate attention, and a werewolf lunged, more impatient than his pack brothers, eager to attack. A bestial growl issued from his throat, which surprised him. Quickly disregarding it, he flew off his tree branch, and crashed into the beast with the force of a wrecking ball.

The beast, caught by surprise, didn't retaliate with attack at first. Michael took that to his advantage and slashed the creature's torso with his talons. The beast howled, but Michael, swiftly and savagely, swiped at its neck, and its howl cut off with a wet gurgle, its neck now baring deep and ragged claw marks.

It was all but ten seconds that passed.

_That's what I'm talking about._

The other lycans, seeing their comrade dead, roared in outrage, and burst out of their hiding places. Selene, quick as ever, opened fired on the rabid canines, and took down two of them with skill and luck.

_Three to go,_ he thought, exhilarating in the moment. A werewolf came charging at him, growling like crazy. _Bring it, Fido._ Michael raised a hand, and then viciously backhanded it, hearing and feeling bones crack and shatter. Just as it went flying back, another wolf came tearing through the woods and tackled him like a linebacker. The force of the blow was massive, and Michael saw lights dance before his eyes, but he growled and kicked and punched the beast, trying to get the damned thing off him. It snapped at his neck with furious fangs, froth flying wildly.

_Dammit, get off!_ he thought, his hands braced on the shoulders of the lycan, attempting to keep it from ripping out his throat. This lycan was strong, maybe smart, or maybe just lucky, he didn't know. But he did know he needed to get it off him, else he'd be the thing's next chew toy. His muscles strained as he tried to get its heavy weight and superhuman strength off his body . . . his arms shook in exertion . . . the lycan's fangs neared his throat . . .

* * *

_Die, you cur, die!_

Selene fired off her gun furiously, keen on putting every last bullet in the werewolf. Its body rocked under her barrage of bullets, before falling still, its cries silenced. Michael pushed the body off him, and rolled into a crouch. She noted with a small of relief that he appeared to be fine.

_T__oo close for my liking, though,_ she thought grimly. She had managed to kill the other lycans each in quick succession, and then saw Michael's predicament. Fury had come to life inside her, and she was all too glad to kill the damned lycanthrope.

But, what unnerved her, was that just seeing Michael in a dicey situation, had her angry. She'd never felt like that, so angry, so _protective_. Seeing him so close to death, being killed by a hated lycan . . .

_It's dead now,_ she thought. _But never before have I savored the death of a lycan like this._

Selene looked around the small battle scene: corpses of lycans, wolf and human form, littered the ground. Blood stood as a sharp contrast to the white snow that covered the ground in a thin layer. Small patches of fur were seen here and there.

The sun filtered through the treetops.

The sun!

* * *

Michael was breathing heavily when he saw alarm shoot across Selene's face. Immediately, he looked around for more lycans. Was there more of them from that pack? Did some of them not die, and were getting up to attack again?

Then he saw that the forest was growing brighter.

And he realized very fast that they had another problem.

_Shit,_ he thought, standing up. _The sun. Dammit._ _We gotta get out of here._

Michael didn't know why, but even though he was half-vampire, the sun didn't affect him. He remembered before on their journey, when Selene had to hunker down in a dark area, that he could be outside, and not be burned by the sun, like other vamps. The sun didn't affect him at all, perhaps because he had been a lycan first.

_Doesn't matter,_ he told himself. _I have to get her to a safe place!_

Selene eyed the sunlight that was getting neared and growing brighter warily. Michael wondered if they ought to go to the catacombs, but what if there were more lycans about? What if they were lying in wait there? He couldn't chance it, but he couldn't chance staying out here much longer.

_Talk about a seriously shitty situation._

He let his senses range out, hearing, smelling, looking. There had to be somewhere they could stay. Just as panic started to enter his system, he caught a hint of smoke. Smoke? He walked in the direction, inhaling deeply. It was smoke, like from a fire, maybe a cabin or something was near, random as it seemed.

_I'll take it._

He looked at Selene, and saw that she had moved to closer to him, away from the dangerously approaching sunlight. _Can I talk like this? _he wondered wildly. When he had tried to say something before, it had sounded like an inarticulate growl. Did he still have the gift of human-speak in this form? _Oh, well._

"Come on," he said. _Well, damn. My voice sounds weird. _Even his voice had been changed, when he became a hybrid, with it now coming from mutated vocal cords. It was rough, gravelly, like a growl.

Michael gave Selene an urgent look, before running due west, quiet literally following his nose. The scent of the smoke grew stronger, and he stuck to it. The sun was visible, he clouds having moved, and he worried if they wouldn't make it.

They darted down a steep slope, and crashed through the underbrush, the forest all but blurring past them. His eyes darted around wildly, _come on, come on_ . . . it _had_ to be there, the source of the smoke. What if he was wrong?

_Wait!_

Up ahead, he saw a shape come into view. It was square-like . . . a house maybe? That cabin he'd been hoping for, as unlikely as it seemed? As they got closer, it turned out that it was a small cabin, complete with a lightly smoking chimney. Michael wondered if anybody lived in it, and someone probably did, but to hell with it. Selene needed to get in there.

The thought of her and this situation she was in, so close to being razed to ash, added wings to his heels and he put on an extra burst of speed. He grabbed Selene's hand and together they rushed to the cabin. With a superhuman burst of speed and strength, they burst into it, just as the sun became completely visible and lighted the area.

They were safe.

* * *

***May not be my best work . . . haven't been feeling well lately . . . I apologize. If anyone's been wondering, this story should be continuing on for a while. So, yeah. I'd like to thank everyone for all the hits this story has been going, and may I admit I almost did a happy dance? Anyway, Chapter 5 is in the planning stage, so it'll be posted . . . mmm . . . later this week?**

**Thanks for reading. :) Could I interest you in giving a review? I have only received eight so far, and that's for the whole story. I'd like to hear people's opinions, so that I can make my writing better. This story receives many, many hits, and I love that, but reviews are what I need and look forward to. What goes through your mind when you read this? What were you thinking after you were done reading this? Review, review, review, please, please, please~**


	5. Confusion

**Chapter 5: Confusion**

Truth be told, Selene was quite tired of these just-escaped-death, lucky-to-be-alive, experiences.

And what was more, it was because of Michael that she was still alive.

She was going to have to work on that.

They stumbled into the cabin, gasping to catch their breath. It was dim, as far as Selene could tell, the only light coming from the sunlight outside.

Michael wasted no time. He let go of her hand and slammed the door close, perhaps with too much force, for it rattled loudly. There were two windows in this room, allowing the light to penetrate the cabin. Selene looked about anxiously, and saw that a hall lead to other area of the cabin. She hurried out of the main room, and was glad to enter a shadowy, light-free hallway.

_Safe,_ she thought in mild relief. _For now, anyway._

Now that the immediate danger of being burnt to a ash had passed, she was able to focus on other things. Her right hand was still tightly grasping one of her Berettas, and she holstered it, hoping that she wouldn't need it here. Were there more lycans about, scurrying the forest, tracking them down? The attack had been so fast, she didn't have the time to count how many werewolves were attacking, or if there were more.

Selene heard Michael moving about in the other room, and she frowned, wondering why he was making so much noise. She peeked around the corner of the hall, curious.

Michael was walking through the small room in a busy-bee-like sort of way. He seemed to be rushing, the way he was throwing things around, and the way he kept on looking at the windows. What was he doing? Preventing the sunlight from entering, making the house . . . "vampire-friendly"? _Such a silly term._

As she watched, she saw his hybrid attributes melt back into his body. The bluish tint of his skin faded into his natural white color, though not as pale as her complexion. His eyes went from jet-black to their normal soft brown color. His muscles returned to their normal human proportions. It seemed like he was doing this unconsciously, and Selene wondered just how powerful he was, and how powerful he would become.

_He's taken to being a hybrid quite well, _she noted, sliding back into the hall. _Almost . . . almost as if he were born to be one._

She shook her head, and then winced when her left shoulder flared in pain. _What the bloody hell . . .?_ She looked down at her shoulder, and was shocked to see a gash in her trench coat, with her blood oozing out from a wound she had not noticed. Impatiently, she shrugged out of her coat and examined this injury more closely. When she had received this wound, she had no idea. How she had noticed it until _now_ completely baffled the vampiress; had the battle had all of her attention, so much that she didn't even know of her own condition? The wound ached, and it felt like a hot poker had been shoved into it, but she was relieved to see that she had not lost a lot of blood. For a brief moment, she remembered when she had been stabbed by Lucian's spring-loaded blade, and how she had passed out at the wheel due to blood loss.

She looked up when she heard and sensed Michael approach, and was surprised to see him standing right beside her. He had approached her, without her even noticing it, and sneaking up on a Death Dealer was no easy task.

_He's getting stronger_.

Michael, shirtless and breathless, took in Selene, with her discarded trench coat and the way she clutched her shoulder, all with worried eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "And don't tell me your fine."

Without waiting to receive an answer, he came to her left side. Gently, he removed her hand so he could get a better look at the wound site.

"It's nothing, really," she told him. "I'll heal."

Michael raised his head and gave her a steady look. "The last time you got hurt, you passed out and nearly drowned."

"Am I unconscious now?"

"No, but I'd rather not risk it."

Selene, a bit annoyed and amused at Michael's behavior, allowed him to guide her to the room at the end of the hall, which proved to be the darkest one.

The room was complete with a queen-sized bed, with unruffled sheets, hinting that they hadn't been used in some time. A grand bookcase dominated the far side of the wall, with books looking old and new. A small handsome oak dressed stood beside it. There were no windows.

Selene went to the bookcase, its books might be interesting and help the day go by faster, but Michael steered her to the bed.

"Michael, I'm fine," she insisted. "You don't have to worry."

"Selene, you were attacked by a lycan. Of course I'm going to worry," he said. "Just let me have a look at it."

_Won't that be hard?_ she thought, eyeing him up. The only part of the wound Michael could was the small bit uncovered, for the rest of it was covered by her leathers. She was ever so curious to see how the hybrid-doctor would go about this.

Michael seemed to have come to same conclusion about her leather outfit. He placed his hands on her wound, and tried to, with gentle fingers, move the leather out of the way. Selene flinched when his finger grazed the open wound, and Michael immediately stopped his efforts.

"Er . . . I have to . . . well . . ." he said, awkwardly, nervously. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know how to say this . . ."

_Is he shy?_ she wondered. _I would never have thought. Ah, well. Might as well let him look at this damned wound, just so he stops being bothersome. Though he means well . . ._

"I know what you're saying," she responded. She raised her right hand and grasped the zipper of her leathers, keeping her eyes locked on his. Slowly, she pulled the zipper down, just to the top of her breasts, and then pushed the material of her right shoulder, baring the wound.

"Go on," she said as Michael continued to stare. She felt just a little uncomfortable. The way he was staring made her feel like an exhibit at a museum.

Michael wisely chose to stop his gawking and hurried to make himself busy with checking out the wound. Selene watched him with a steady gaze. Now that she could see, her wound was an ugly, puckered thing, made up of three jagged slashes. Selene focused her thoughts on the fight with lycans; when did she get hurt? She replayed the battle in her mind.

_It must have been when I saw Michael in trouble,_ she thought._ I was . . . only focused on him._

Why the hell was that?

She wished she had an answer.

Selene stopped her inner musings when she saw Michael walk over to the dresser. He pulled open a drawer and rummaged around it. What was he up to now? He must have found what he was looking for, because he yanked out an old looking black jacket. He easily ripped off part of one of the sleeves and walked back to her. Gently, he wrapped the fabric around her slim shoulder, tying it just tight enough, making a homemade tourniquet.

Michael seemed satisfied with his work; Selene adjusted her leathers.

"That should stop the bleeding," he said. "It's an ugly injury, but . . . it didn't look too bad. I just didn't want to take any chances."

With great effort, she resisted rolling her eyes. Selene knew that though her wound hurt like the sixth shade of hell now, it would be fine in a few hours. Already, she could feel it losing its awful raw sting. Vampires healed fast, and she wondered if he didn't know that, for he was half-vampire himself.

_Maybe he just cares about you,_ a voice from her mind supplied. _Maybe he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you._

She shut up that little voice promptly.

"Thank you," Selene said, not quite meeting Michael's eyes.

"Hey, it was the least I could do. You saved me back there."

"I didn't feel like watching you die."

They were both surprised by her statement. Where had _that_ come from?

Selene mentally shook herself and then stepped away from Michael, heading for the bookcase. Shoving aside her confusion with Michael, she wondered who it was that lived here. The scent of the place was old and stale, combined with the scent of the forest. But she had caught the scent of smoke, and that was probably why Michael had brought them here; he figured there was a building somewhere. Selene didn't see a fireplace or anything, so why had there been smoke? Someone lived here, but did they _still_ live here?

She absentmindedly trailed her fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves, reading the faded letters and feeling the worn material. Most of them seemed to be novels, history books, a Bible, and . . .

_What's this?_

She stopped her examining and looked at the large book more closely. It couldn't be. She pulled it off the shelf, balancing its heavy weight in both hands.

_Well, I'll be damned . . . no pun intended,_ she thought, stunned.

As impossible as it seemed, this book was the same one that she had been reading in the catacombs. It was like its twin, with the same faded yellow pages and the way it seemed to have been around for many years.

_How odd,_ she mused._ that this book be here, in this home, when the same one was in those ancient catacombs._

_I am intrigued._

Selene remembered all too well what she had been reading about last in this book. The page depicting the battle scene between vampires and lycans locked in heated combat years and years ago. The page with the symbol, the symbol she remembered from her childhood.

_Why is that?_ she wondered, flipping quickly through the book to find that page. _Why have I seen . . . this?_

She found the page, found the picture and its mysterious symbol. Selene walked to the bed and set the book down and stared at the picture, looking like she was glaring at it. Michael, who had been on a mission to find a shirt, came over to her peered at the book with her, plopping down on the bed. She saw his eyes widen.

"Hey, isn't that . . .?"

"Yes," she answered stiffly. 'What I was telling you about before."

I hardly had the chance to tell him, she corrected herself.

Michael scooted closer, angling his head to get a better look, "So, you said you saw this when you were . . . well, it's from your childhood? Why do you think that?"

"I don't _know!_" she snapped, surprising both of them, but she understood her frustration completely. In truth, she was still reeling from what had transpired two days ago, when she found out that her life had been a lie. Learning that Viktor, the one she had looked to as a replacement for a father, had murdered her family, when she thought it'd been the lycans all along. That enough had her thoughts circling about like a flock of geese who needed a compass. But now, there was this book, and this symbol, and she didn't know why she remembered it!

_Damn it all,_ she thought as emotions she was not familiar churned within her being.

Michael had flinched at her small outburst, but he got over it. He slid his hand over and placed it on top of hers; his warm, hers cold.

"Okay, okay, I understand," he said in a placating tone. "It can't be easy, seeing something you know but you don't know why. I get it." Selene lifted her head and saw that he was smiling, just a small one. "Just try to . . . I dunno . . . think about it. Think why it means something to you, or why it meant something to you."

She sat on the edge of the bed slowly, their hands still touching. "You think that will work?" she asked, not sure if she believed what he was saying.

Michael shrugged and laced his fingers with hers. "I always thought that people remember things if they meant something," he said, quite simply. "So, I figured that this thing," he gestured vaguely at the book with his free hand. "It was important to you."

Selene felt that she was at a loss of words. What Michael said, now tht she thought about it, made sense, but that wasn't what surprised her. The fact that he was so willing to help her, now and before, so willing, with a woman who was one of the reasons his life had turned upside-down.

_I've never known anyone like him . . ._

"Just think, try to remember," he urged her softly. "It'll come to you." He squeezed her fingers, as if to offer reassurance and comfort.

She nodded slowly and focused her gaze on the book, on that one symbol. _Remember . . . this images meant something. Think why._

Then, suddenly, like a wall of glass had broken inside her mind, a stream of images, of memories, flooded her mind like a burst dam. Disjointed images of people and places, from the past and present . . . humans, vampires and lycans . . . images from her vampire existence, and her old human life.

Her head jerked up and she stared at Michael with livid chestnut eyes.

"I remember now."

***Reviews are deeply needed and appreciated~ I ask for some of your time to give a review. Please? **


	6. What the Past reveals

**Chapter 6: What the Past reveals**

Deep in the forest, the Alpha looked down at his fallen comrades. The freezing howling wind did little to bother him, perhaps because he was covered with a furry pelt, or maybe because his anger warmed him so. Inhuman cobalt eyes took in the scene of the battle with disdain.

The prey had gotten away, and killed the predators.

Now dead, his lycan comrades had reverted to human form, lying unnatural positions with ugly wounds marring their bodies. Blood stained the ground in large amounts, staining the virgin snow crimson.

The Alpha stood erect on his hind legs on the small hill, still and silent. Ten lycans were dead, but that didn't faze him. He blamed the fact that these werewolves were young, recently changed, relying more on their instincts than logic and skill. They had really looked at the hunt as a game.

_Underestimate the opponent,_ he thought. _And you will lose._

The one thing he didn't lose, however, was the prey's scent. He could smell the aroma of the vampire bitch, and the odd smell from the male with her. The Alpha had caught a glimpse of him, and he had been stunned; never before in his immortal years had he seen such a creature. It looked more human than werewolf, but more demon than vampire.

He felt an urge within in him to go follow that scent, track the killers of his pack brothers, but yet, he thought better of it. Why indulge himself now, if it were not his orders to so? Of course, the thrill of the kill seemed worth it, but would he risk it? For even he, an Alpha, had someone above him in power.

In the beginning, he thought that he and the randomly chosen lycans had just gone out on a hunting mission. Scour the forest and the surrounding area to see if anything was out here. But now, the Alpha was thinking that there was something else behind this mission. He should report back in; he was the only one alive from this small squad. One last glance at his fallen brethren sparked anger inside the Alpha, anger and bloodlust. Reluctantly, he turned away and loped back into the forest soon being surrounded by towering trees.

Emotion awakened an almost overwhelming impulse, and the howl that tore out of his throat was not only of sorrow for the fallen lycans, but of rage.

_Revenge will be mine._

_All in good time . . ._

_

* * *

_

Michael had never seen such emotion on Selene's face. Such . . . excitement, lividity. It was like she was glowing. That guarded expression seemed to have faded, just a little, revealing what she really felt.

He was glad to see that she had remembered what this mysterious symbol meant to her in the past, and was thrilled that he had helped. Just simple urging and coaching did the trick. Yet, deep inside, he couldn't help but wonder what this meant now. Would they have to go somewhere to find out more about this symbol? What would happen next?

_It'd be best to see what she remembers_, he told himself. _And no matter what, I'm sticking with her._ He watched Selene get off the bed in a fluid motion and began pacing about the room.

"I've seen this . . . when I was just a young girl. It was . . . a place where my . . . family lived. Somewhere like here . . . cold, but not much civilization." she was muttering, sounding like she was mostly talking to herself.

"Where did you see it though? Was it like a drawing, like in the book? Or an . . . object?" he queried, a little interested to hear what she had to say about this symbol, now that some of this stuff made sense to her. _Makes one of us,_ he thought wryly.

"I'm not sure," Selene answered, looking like she was a thousand miles away. "But the design on it," she quickly went back to the book and focused her eyes on the page. "It means something."

Michael was confused. "What?"

She spared him an impatient glance. "It's not just a random assortment of lines; it has meaning." She stared at unblinkingly at the page. "There are words here . . ."

Michael decided it best to not bother her, engrossed as she was. He got up and meandered over to the bookcase and examined the books. It looked like a bunch of old books, like history books. _Not even a novel for easy-reading? _he wondered.

As he wandered around, absentmindedly looking at the reading material, Selene was lost in thought, her mind being transported to the past, a memory of _her_ past . . .

_She stood in a long corridor, dimly lit except for a few sputtering torches mounted in brackets on the walls. It was quiet, and that unnerved her, but she was curious; she had brought herself down here. No backing down now. A child's curiosity is nearly insatiable . . ._

_Stubbornly determined, she continues walking down this corridor. She'd set her mind to do this, to explore, a brave decision, or perhaps foolish._

_It was cold, her lightweight dress did little to keep her warm. The chill seemed to sink into her bones. She shivered._

_This corridor seemed to never end, and just when young Selene debated about turning around, at last, she came across a bend. Maybe the end of this long hall had something that made this long walk worthwhile! She picked up the pace._

_And came across a door._

_A door?_

_A huge door was at the end of the hall, which proved to be a dead end. On each side of it were three torches, brightly burning. Spiderwebs clung to the wall, and Selene could have sworn she saw a plump black rat scurry away. The door was big, not made of wood though. A different kind of material. She hesitantly took a few steps forward._

_There was no handle she noticed, just a circle-like indentation in the middle of the door. How strange. She raised her small white hand and brushed it along the door, feeling its cold, hard smoothness. Her hand cleared away a heavy layer of dust. Beneath the indentation, was a erotic design, made up of intricate line and shapes. Around the drawing, which she thought beautiful, were tiny words written quiet elegantly._

_She heard movement behind her, and turned around quickly. Someone was here! But where? She did hear _something_. She knew it. Odd. Her heart was pounding beneath her chest wildly, and an awful feeling of dread filled her. Was she imagining things? The shadows flickering across the walls, cast by the torches, showed her false images, making her think something was creeping in the shadows, out of sight._

_She should leave, that would be wise. This place, it was scary. Though still a child, her instincts urged her to go, while she still could . . ._

_And yet, this door was so odd, being placed here, with it not having a handle, and its design. She turned slowly and looked at it with large chestnut eyes, almost like she was in a trance . . ._

_Hurried footsteps thudded against the ground, heading right in her direction. She gasped. Who could it be? Frightened, she whirled around, hand flying over heart . . ._

_"Selene!"_

The voice from the past changed into one of the present.

"Selene?"

She looked up, blinking slowly. What had that been about? That memory, so clear, so vivid, as she experienced it just yesterday. She saw that Michael was holding a small leather-bound book, open to a page that must have had his interest.

"What is it?" she asked faintly.

"I think I found something that's connected to that symbol. Look," he handed her the book. She took it, coming back from the past, out of the memory. Michael pointed at a certain section in the book, on the open page.

She read what was on it.

On the faded page, was the same design, perfectly copied into this book. Written in elegant cursive writing, was a long paragraph underneath it. Curiosity burning in her veins, she devoured it, reading it with stunning speed.

_The symbol, Rashempra, as it has been called throughout the ages, is only used when it is most desperately needed. The name's origins is unknown, but it is most commonly known as "protector," or "guardian."_

_The creator of the symbol was not a mere mortal. Born into the race of vampire, the creator was one most revered of his kind, even smiled upon by Lord Viktor._

Selene felt a flash of hot anger well up inside her and air race up her throat, the beginnings of a hiss, but she kept reading silently.

_The creator was believed to have been gifted, being far more powerful than his own kind. Alas, this led to disputes, and anger and jealousy overrode reverence._

_By the time of the Great War, the lycans had become rebellious, ravishing the land and creating more and more of their breed. Soon, they spread like wildfire, and the vampires feared defeat, but the creator prevailed._

_Using the gifts he was blessed with, he destroyed the lycan forces, wiping them out. As it turned out, there was a leader of this grand lycan horde. This beast proved to be most powerful, and could not be defeated. The creator, as a last resort, evoked his magic and imprisoned the beast._

_The symbol is the key to the imprisonment, allowing the beast to be captive. Only those of the bloodline of the creator will be able to understand the meanings of the symbol, and unravel its mysteries, thus gaining control of the beast . . ._

She looked up from the book, dazed and confused. Michael shrugged and gave a small smile. "yeah, I didn't het it either. It's confusing."

She agreed, but understood that it seemed to tell a story of some sort. A story of how this symbol came into creation, but who was this creator? And, he was someone that Viktor knew? So many revelations, and they just led to more and more questions . . . Selene looked back at the open book in her hands.

She reread the whole paragraph, but it just made her confused. If she thought it out correctly however, it was saying that whoever was a descendent of this _creator_, they would be able to free it from its prison, and gain control over it. Right?

Beneath the paragraph were the same words that Selene had seen in the other books, and in her memories. Why did this keep popping up? Though it was of a different language, she somehow knew what it said.

She read aloud: "Complicated I may be, I am the one that is the key. Try as you may to decipher me, but alas, it is those of my kind, of the same blood that binds thee."

Selene had surprised herself with reading this, and Michael's expression was but a mirror of her feelings, but they were both shocked when they sensed someone else in the room. Their instincts roared to life and they both turned to the doorway to see someone slouching it, quite casually.

"Well, well, someone finally knows what that bloody symbol means. 'Bout time. Excellent. But I must ask, why the devil are you in my house?"


	7. The Truth Comes Out

**Chapter 7: The Truth Comes Out**

_What the hell, _Michael thought as he stared at the newcomer in the doorway.

The man was tall, at least six feet. He had pale skin and sharp-looking green eyes, keen like a hawk's. He had tan-colored hair that was messy and wore simple clothes; jeans and a hooded dark red sweatshirt. Michael took in his casualness, more wary than he would have normally been. He wasn't going to let his guard down now, who know what this guy was capable of, despite the fact he looked to be in his late forties.

_No way am I trusting him,_ Michael decided. He tensed, and was glad to see that Selene looked fierce and pissed-off, like a Death Dealer.

The man's dull expression brightened when he looked at who was in his house. Michael noted that he didn't exactly look mad, but just wondering, like why are there people in my house, and not there's people in my house, time for some ass-kicking.

"Ah, this is a surprise," said the man. "Selene! It's been a while!"

_He knows her?_

Selene scowled and snapped the book shut. "Cecil," she greeted in a voice so cold that ice would have been surprised.

_She knows him?_

Selene must have seen Michael's obvious confusion and astonishment because she said in a tomeless voice, "Michael, this Cecil Aryay. He is a vampire, a historian. He's been around for a long time."

Cecil snorted. "A long time, dear? That just sounds like a century or two. No, no. More than that!"

"So, you're what, ancient?" Michael guessed, noticing that a faint Scottish accent played in the man's lilt.

The man chuckled, not at all offended. "You could say that. And, you're what, just a child?" he wondered, the same Michael had about Cecil's age.

_Dude's got jokes._

Selene didn't seem to enjoy this little guessing-game of age, her negative emotions radiated off her like an aura. Michael still didn't know if this Cecil guy could be trusted, and he wouldn't trust him if Selene didn't.

"All right, Cecil," she said. "Why are you here?"

"I said this was my house," replied Cecil, sounding a little offended now. "I come back an' I find you and this young buck reading me books. Care to explain why?"

"Just stopping by," Selene answered breezily. "We ran into some lycans in the forest and needed to find a safe place until the sun set. Speaking of," she narrowed her eyes. "You weren't outside were. You said you came in."

Cecil sighed theoretically and slouched into the room lazily. "This place has a basement and I was down there." He forwned. "This doesn't matter. Why are you here, Selene?"

"I explained that already."

"Why are you _really_ here?"

"I don't need anything, if that's what you mean. Not this time."

Cecil looked at her with a raised eyebrow and then to the books littered about. "Nothing, eh?"

Michael bet that if Selene were capable of growling, she would have then. But she could hiss, and she did so now, hissing under breath in her irritation. He chose to remain silent, for he didn't want to be on the receiving end of her anger. Although, he had many questions to ask. For instance, how did these two know each other? And why was it that Selene seemed to really not like him? Michael thought he was a little funny.

Cecil had now turned his attention to Michael, his keen eyes focused on him with interest. "Who's your friend, Selene? You haven't introduced me."

Michael heard her take a deep breath, hold it for a moment, and then release it in a deep exhalation. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, and he met them, before inclining his head a tiny margin. It was okay for her to introduce him, he saw nothing wrong with it.

"This is Michael Corvin," Selene told Cecil. "He's been with me for a few days. He is a . . . a loyal friend."

_Well, damn,_ Michael thought in surprise. _She called me her friend. Has she even said that word before? Wow, _he resisted grinning. _Mark the day on the calendar that Selene called me her friend._

Yet, depsite his happiness over the term, some part of him rebelled at just being called a friend. He wanted to be more to her, more than just a friend.

_Screw it,_ he decided. _Just be happy she said you're her friend._

"Curious," murmured Cecil, now walking toward Michael. He did it slowly, and when he approached him, he began to circle him, like he was observing a piece of art in a museum.

"You are not vampire as we are," Cecil said thoughtfully. "But not lycan, nor human." He actually leaned forward and sniffed Michael. _What the fuck?_ he thought, beginning to feel very uncomfortable by this man's closeness. He knew that if he wanted to, he could probably take him on, probably throw him threw the cabin's wall if needed, what with his hybrid strength.

_Oh, no, what if he figures out that I'm a hybrid, one of the first combinations of vamp and wolf? What's he gonna do?_ fretted Michael as Cecil eyed him up with intense thoughtfulness and curiosity.

"Cecil," Selene began thoughtfully. Michael was thankful for her intervening. "Have you ever heard of the Corvinus Strain?"

Cecil looked at Selene with a light in his eyes. "Ah, of course, my dear! I have read about it and tried to understand for the longest time. But there is not too much information about it," he sighed sadly, as though this were a great sadness. "Why do you bring it up?"

"No reason in particular," Selene said airily. Michael wondered what she was up to as she slowly walked around the small room. He stared and Selene caught his eye briefly and gave him a fierce look. Not a master of eye-looks, he merely just assumed that she wanted him to play along or to stay silent and let her do the talking, which made him feel like a sidekick.

"It's just that I have heard some things about it and would like to know more," she finished softly.

"I'd love to, but I don't how much I can tell you," he paused and rubbed his chin. "Or how much I should tell you."

"You won't tell me?"

"Well, no offense, lass, but we aren't really the best of friends where we can swap stories around the campfire. I don't know if I should speak."

"What if," Selene said, and Michale could tell she was slowly wrapping Cecil around her finger, so to speak. _She's got this,_ he thought. _She knows how to deal with him_. "What if I knew someone with the Strain?"

Cecil's expression became livid. "You know someone?"

"Quite well."

"Who?"

"In this very room."

They both turned to look at Michael; Cecil shocked and Selene looking pleased.

"You are a descendant of the Corvinus line?" Cecil breathed.

_Play along, Michael, play along_. "Yeah, I am. Didn't you get that from my last name?" He had made the connection himself, seeing that Corvin was derived from Corvinus.

"Curious," Cecil muttered. "I thought there was something about you, boy!"

"You barely know me."

"Well, yes, but besides that."

Michael sighed.

"So, Cecil, care to tell us about what you know?" Selene queried.

"Yes, yes," said Cecil absentmindedly. "What was that again?"

"A few things, actually," she said, sounding like she was getting down to business. "What you know of the Corvinus Strain, the pasts of our kind and something else."

Three guesses as to what it is, Michael thought, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. If Cecil was this awesome historian type of guy, then Selene must have figured that he would know something about that symbol, the symbol that was plaguing her thoughts now, and his. He wanted to know what its importance was, for there seemed to be a lot more to it than met the eye.

Cecil heard the seriousness in Selene's tone and looked away from Michael who felt like an exhibit in a zoo. "You said something else, lass? What would that be?"

Selene uttered one word: "Reshempra."

Michael had heard of overreactions, but Cecil really reacted quite differently. He lpeat back from Selene as if she had dropped a pot of boiling water and mutter something harshly in another language. His eyes were wide as he began muttering something under his breath frantically, avoiding eye contact with Selene. When he was done, he looked up, and looked terrified.

"_Reshempra?_" he repeated in a horrified whisper.

"Yes," they both answered.

Cecil began muttering again.

Must be a touchy subject, Michael concluded. Who would've thought? He plucked the book from its resting spot on the bed and opened it. While flipping through it, Selene came to his side and watched, and then told him to stop when he came to the page of the symbol and the inscription. He handed her the book and she took it, then went to the cowering Cecil.

"What do you know?" she said softly, urgently.

"And don't say nothing, either," Michael put in. "No one who knows nothing doesn't act like you are."

Cecil, who had been pressed up against the wall, slowly moved away from it. Selene shoved the book into his hands and he took, holding it away from him like it was something disgusting.

"I hoped to never describe this," he murmured.

"Why?" asked Michael.

Cecil looked at him with an expression that seemed to have aged fifty years in the past three minutes. "For what it simply it is, boy."

"And that is . . . ?"

Cecil sighed wearily and motioned for them both to gather around. Selene and Michael approached and looked over Cecil's shoulders to look at the book and this symbol. Cecil raised a white, shaking hand and pointed at the detailed drawing.

"The outer design," he said. "Shows a line. It is a winding path, leading somewhere." He moved his finger. "The inner layer is a complex swirl, like a maze, a maze one could become lost in forever." Again, he moved his finger to another spot. "This darkened area shows what could just be a a black piece of the symbol. But what it really is blood, that's what it means. And in the center," his hand was shaking like a leaf in a strong gust when he pointed at the middle of the design. "This could also be seen as a black piece, or blood. But it is something else." Cecil took a deep breath and seemed to prepare himself. The both waited impatiently for the historian-vampire to continue.

"The winding line is the Path of Travel, a place that seems to take an eternity to explore. The maze is known as the Cavern of Truth, for those who are lost within it may speak the deepest truth from their core to another, if they fear death. The dark are is the Sacrificial Blood Stone, and to continue on your way, a price must be payed . . . blood . . . "

"Wait," said Michael. "Hold on. You're saying this thing _actually_ shows real places? Like, these places _exist?_"

"Indeed," answered Cecil gravelly. "If one were unfortunate to come across these places, they's have no choice but to complete their journey, to the last place." He indicated with a bony finger to the center of the design; a black hole.

"This last destination," Selene muttered. "What is it?"

"A place some call one of no return. It is where a dark power is locked up." Cecil whispered.

"Is that bad?" wondered Michael.

"Oh, yes. If it were to be unlocked, it would devour the person immediately. If it were to be controlled, the person would eventually die, for the power is so strong. Only the hier is able to control it, and that bloodline has long sonce died out . . . "

Michael and Selene shared a loaded glance, knowing full well that Cecil was wrong, that the bloodline had not died out. For a person of the bloodline was standing right there in the small cabin, wondering about her own past and her link with this symbol, whose mysterious were being unraveled like a ball of tangled yarn. The bloodline was still alive and well, existing in the heir.

Selene.

***Thank you for reading! Sorry if the last chapter wasn't up to snuff, wasn't my best, I know. What do you guys and girls think of the story so far? Good, bad, awful? I don't think my writing is awesome and boast about it, I write how I write and hope its enjoyable. So, please, please, please, if you can, a review would be so nice. I love writing and I love reviews, so please. Besides that, had fun with this chapter and number 8 is in the planning stages. The holidays are coming up, so my writing schedule will be compromised, but I promise to keep up with it. Anyways, thank you so much~ **


	8. The Things We Do

**Chapter 8: The Things We Do**

Kraven was used to life's luxuries.

He lived in life's finest moments. Bathing in glory, being surrounded by oohing and ahhing female silly vampires . . . all of what he, by rights, undoubtedly deserved. After all, what was the point of being an immortal, when you didn't live?

Well, he certainly wasn't living the life he wanted now.

Cold, shivering, covered in muck, grime and whatever else from head to toe, he made his way through the bunker. His fancy clothes clung to his skin from his own perspiration and the filth. His ebony locks were plastered to his face. The big jewels on his fingers were a mockery now, it seemed, showing him what he had fallen from.

And who was there to thank for this?

Selene.

Kraven stumbled over a mutilated corpse, lycan or vampire, he couldn't tell, and ground his teeth. God, was this place disgusting. It reeked of lycan shit and piss, plus the scent of decaying bodies and blood. The foul odor made his insides churn, and blood that was not his threatened to come back up, but he swallowed convulsively.

_Soon, I will be out of here,_ thought Kraven, continuing his way down the dimly lit tunnel, leading to only God knew where._ And then, it is time for a new plan._

And he hoped like hell that this time, his plan would work.

After centuries of planning, centuries of secretly working with the champion of lycans, none other than Lucian himself, and it all went down hill in a matter of forty eight hours. It should have worked perfectly: the surprise assassination of the Lady Amelia, the need for a leader, and Kraven, who was the one fit for the job, would take the throne, to say. He should have been up to his elbows in glory and respect.

Instead, he was in filth and probably in the deepest shit imaginable.

Viktor had been awakened, by Selene, but then slain by her, too. Kraven had run like a bat out of hell from the Elder, for fear of his wrath. Other vampires had been clued in on his lies and betrayal, and he knew they would love to see him flayed alive, tortured, and then killed. So he came to the bunker which housed the lycans, but the vampires found him. Possibly cowardly, he ran, evading Viktor, but after a series of events, he found himself killing Lucian, (this time it was for real) telling Selene the truth about her beloved dark father, and then killing her lycan lover. Or so he thought, but then she bit him.

_She should have chosen me,_ he thought archly, not for the first time. _But she chose a lycan over me. Think of what she could have had, at my side! But she chose her Romeo-esque lycan._

Even though they were probably miles away, Kraven cursed Selene, the castrating bitch, and the lycan, Michael.

The tunnel seemed to be endless. All he wanted to do was to get above ground. His original plan, when he had Viktor after him, was to escape this bunker, and then possibly catch the quickest flight out of the country. Maybe he could have taken that servant wench, what was her name? Erika. Yes, the blonde, who offered herself openly to him. That would have worked, if he could have taken her and Soren, to somewhere far away. Gather resources, allies, and start over . . . yes . . .

Kraven found it funny how plans just never seemed to work.

What were his plans now? First and foremost, get out of this hellhole of a place. Second, make his way back to the mansion. After that, he'd work on it.

One thing was sure though, once he was able and well again, he'd get his revenge on Selene. This was all her fault.

And because of that lycan of hers! Choosing _that_ over him, indeed!

* * *

Selene was not one to waste time on moments of surprise, or to recover over surprise.

After the revelation of the mysterious design, she seemed to get right back into things.

"Where are these places?" she asked Cecil, who closed the book slowly. He seemed to have been in a trance, and was coming out of it, and looked at Selene as if she had declared she wanted to be the first female vampire president.

"You can't be serious," he said. "You can't honestly want to . . .?"

"Of course," she said sharply, allowing no question about her decision. "I want to check it out."

Though there was much more to it than her checking it out.

"Selene, lass, this place, it is dangerous!" spluttered Cecil. "People die there. They get lost, or killed, or if they do come out of there alive, they have no sanity left! I consider those of us who do not stumble across these places lucky."

She frowned at him. Why was he so worried about these places of myth and legend? What could possibly frighten an immortal? So what if these places that were connected to a design were dangerous? Selene was curious, and she had to, just had to find out what it was, why it was so important to her, and why it was connected to her.

_I can't ignore it anymore, _she admitted to herself. _Something inside me is egging me on to find out. I have to know._

"I'm going, Cecil," said Selene. "I know not of the dangers these locations hold, but I wish to know. You're a historian; haven't you ever felt the need to figure out the importance of something?"

"Yes, I have," Cecil said stiffly. Selene could tell he didn't like her pointing out his natural curiosity of nearly all historical things.

"So why do you object to my going?"

"Because it's not something you should risk your life for!" snarled Cecil, eyes flashing. "It is a place full of unknowing. That seems to be what draws people in! They want to _know_. It's their damned curiosity and nosing around that gets them killed! Learn from their mistakes and don't be a fool; do not go!"

"Cecil, since when have you ever cared about my safety?" queried Selene, tilting her head to the side. "We don't get along, as you have said before. Why give me warnings?"

Selene saw Michael look at the historian with interest. Yes, why did this man seem to worry if Selene even _did_ go, if he did not care for her?

Cecil fidgeted and made himself busy by going to his bookcase and examining its contents.

"I knew someone," he said in a grave voice after a few very long seeming minutes. "who was just like you, lass. She was interested, wanting to know about this exact design. Ah, how young she was! But a child, possessing unlimited curiosity and a need to know! I had taken a liking to her, for she reminded me of when I was like that." Cecil gave a small chuckle that sounded strained. "In the end though," he said, seeming to be speaking to the books. "I had led her to her demise. Why? Maybe because I wanted to satisfy my own curiosity, so I sent someone off to do it. Perhaps if I had done more research, then she could have been spared."

The sadness in his voice seemed to hang in the very air, and both Selene and Michael looked down. How sad, it was, that a young person had lost their life, just because of their own interests.

But Selene still would not back down, because she was just stubborn that way.

"Cecil, as sorry as I am about your . . . friend, I still have to do this," she said, breaking the heavy silence. "This is something that has been bothering me to the point that I cannot take it."

The historian did not say anything. Selene saw Michael frown.

"Wait, so you _are_ still gonna check this out?" he asked. "Why?"

"I just said so."

"But, if this maze, and path, and whatever the hell it is, is killing all these people, why go, if you might killed?" he demanded.

Selene met his stare with a cold one of her own, eyeing him like a wrathful eagle. "I did the same when the lycans were interested in you, Michael. My efforts could have very well gotten me killed. But I still live. I am prepared for the risks."

He stepped forward. Michael was a few inches taller than she, and he glowered down at her. Selene had a brief moment of wonder as to why Michael was acting so. What brought out this reaction? He had been fine, until Cecil had recounted his tale, and now he didn't want her to go?

"I don't like this," Michael said. "I don't care if you are prepared for the risks. I don't like the fact that you are so ready for this . . . quest."

"No one said that you had to be," she retorted scathingly.

Michael threw his hands in the air in a gesture of exasperation. "Selene, what's with you? Why is this so important?"

"The question is not why _I'm _so interested, it's why are _you_ arguing about my being interested," she said, blatantly ignoring his question. "It does not really concern you."

"Like hell it doesn't," he growled. "I'm sticking with you, even if I don't like it."

"I never said that you had to like it, Michael."

He looked at her with his brown eyes. Was it her, or could she see the first beginnings of them starting to change into the hybrid black color? Was he that angry, that his hybrid nature was awakening? Michael took a few deep breaths, seeming to calm himself down. Cecil, still by his books, watched silently. Selene wondered if he was hoping that Michael would convince her to not go.

She doubted it.

Selene was stubborn, and Michael knew that all too well. Arguing with her was like fighting a losing battle, and she knew it best for him to back down now. But he still seemed to have one more thing to say.

"Fine," he said through clenched teeth. "Go. Investigate your little design and other stuff. I'll go, but I won't like it. You're going into the unknown, and it's dangerous. You're taking a huge risk."

She stared at him and said in a voice so cold that ice would have been surprised:

"It wouldn't be my first time."

* * *

**A/N: So now we see Michael and Selene having some disputes, eh? I wanted there to be conflict though. I mean, as much as I loved Underworld: Evolution, they just seemed to get along wayyy too easy. (hello, they had sex in a truck bed after only knowing each other for a little bit) **

**Anyways, Chapter 9 will be posted soon, probably around the holidays. If you haven't seen already, I have multiple stories to work on now (darn you imagination!) so it's hard to keep up with the most popular one I've got. If you could, and I'm begging now, why not check 'em out? See what else I have to offer. Also, and I'm like on my knees now, PLEASE REVIEW. With all those hits has to be people who CAN review. All I need is a small one, please~**


	9. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Setting Things in Motion**

Finally, _finally_, Kraven escaped the bunker.

He inhaled deep lungfuls of fresh air, standing in the entrance of the underworld. He was a filthy mess; covered in muck, grime, blood that was not his own, and whatever else was down there. Kraven thanked whichever gods were above for his luck of finally being above ground. Though unlikely as it was with him being a vampire, he thought he heard an Hallelujah chorus, now that he was outside.

Now onto the next matter of business.

Scowling, he brushed back his dirty and sweaty ebony locks and made his way down a nearby alley. It was nighttime, which is something he noticed with relief; he couldn't even think about spending a whole day in that filthy hellhole.

As he treaded silently down the alley, absent of any living beings, he reflected on the recent happenings. _How_ he got to be like this; a blood-soaked parody of his former glory. _What_ got him to be like this; Selene and her lycan freak of a lover. _Why_ he got to be like this; again, it was all Selene.

Although Viktor was dead, he still felt fearful of what was yet to come. There could still be lycans out there, who had been faithful to Lucian. No doubt that they would want him dead. And other vampires . . . well, he took a small amount of comfort in the fact that Viktor's handpicked team of Death Dealers had been eliminated by Selene. But, there were still the ones back at the mansion, long known as Ordoghaz, ("Devil's House") and who knew if Selene had blathered Kraven's betrayal to the coven.

He shivered at the thought of this, of what his fate would be if he had been found out. _But_, he thought in grim excitement. _if they don't know, then my plans will still work._

Holding onto that small hope, Kraven made his way back to the mansion, back to where either safe haven lie, or his doom.

* * *

Selene meandered around the basement of the cabin where it was at least fifteen degrees colder. She'd had no idea that there had been a lower floor to this cabin, but then again, there had been little time for investigating.

She found this place mainly due to her brief moment of anger. After her argument with Michael, she had stalked out of the room, leaving him with Cecil, needing time to cool down. She had saw a door at the end of the hall, and she headed for it, thus leading to how she came to be in this basement.

It was dimly lit, just a small lightbulb hanging overhead that flickered occasionally, but her vampire eyes had adjusted easily. The basement was rather large, stretching a bit underground, past the foundations of the house. It was spacious, filled with odd things. Selene had seen more books, that did not come to her as a surprise, a wardrobe full of men's clothing, and a fair collection of wine, beer, and Tokay. Other things included shelves and shelves full of old artifacts and runes, proof of Cecil's profession, love, and obsession of all things related to the past. She saw things that came from this country, things that had become obsolete. Selene reflected briefly how things of the past had become that, obsolete, and wondered if she too, were to eventually become like that. The champion of the lycans was dead, the rest of the lycans were scattered to the wind, yet she had a nasty feeling that there some werewolves out there, waiting, planning.

Alas, there were still vampires out there, and she knew that they would be hunting them. Killing an Elder for a lycan? That was probably worse than the most frowned upon crime. Breaking the Covenant.

Lost in her fretful inner musings, she missed the large cabinet mounted on the stone, crumbling wall. What caught her attention was when she saw something glint inside it, for the doors had parts taken out to be replaced with glass. Intrigued, she went back to the cabinet, placed her hands on the golden knobs, and cautiously opened the doors.

_Well, I'll be damned,_ she thought in surprise.

On the top rows of the shelves were crossbows, at least three of them. A quiver of arrows lay beside the neatly placed medieval weapons. On the the shelf below were small, disk-like devices. Selene was familiar with these; she had used them quite frequently. When triggered, they would open to reveal sharp, razor edges that were based off the Japanese _shuriken_, or throwing stars. There were ten of them stacked up in two rows of five. What was next to them resembled the _shuriken_, but they had a small blue LED light. Selene picked one up carefully and turned it over, wondering what it really was.

"Careful with that, lass," drawled a voice from behind her. "Touch the trigger button in the center and they make a nasty bang. Don't want my house blowing up."

Selene turned and saw Cecil descending the staircase slowly, evaluating her with guarded eyes. Selene looked from him to the weapon in her hand and then smirked.

"That's good to know, then."

Cecil sighed.

"I take it you really _are_ going?" he asked, leaning against the wall and watching her as she examined the rest of the weapons; which consisted of multiple guns and semiautomatics and plenty of ammunition.

Selene nodded absently. "Why do you have so much of this?" she wondered. "Are you building an army, preparing for an attack?"

"I'd venture with the latter," he muttered dryly. This surprised her; she didn't really think that he'd answer it like that. "It's been a while since we've last spoken, and a lot has happened."

"It can't be good if you're so well-stocked," she remarked.

He smiled wryly. "Smart girl; always liked that about you. Yes, you are right, though, lass. I had a fallout with a . . . er . . . rather important higher-upper. I just want to be protected."

_D__oes he even know how to use a gun?_ she wondered to herself. Cecil continued to talk, as if they were old friends who hadn't seen each other in years, and were catching up on things over a cup of tea.

"It was a foolish mistake, and it surely could have been prevented, but I'm only seeing that now, _after_ it happened. So I came here . . . hmm . . . about five decades ago. I thought that exiling myself would save my hide. Coming across such interesting catacombs," his eyes lit up briefly. "and discovering that a pack of lycanthropes lived near here was an added bonus."

That last sentence caught her attention. "You knew that lycans lived here?"

"Well, they didn't live here, to say. I think they like caves, the beasts. But there was a pack here when I came here, and I knew that would add to my protection."

Selene could see the logic and sense in his thinking. She guessed that whoever Cecil's "enemy" was had to be a vampire, so of course the lycans would come in handy that way.

She mulled over this as she plucked a crossbow from the top shelf and weighed it in her hands. Arrows were already loaded, she noticed. Cecil really was paranoid about this attack.

"Who is it that you're so worried about attacking you anyway?" Selene asked, her finger wrapping around the trigger mechanism of the crossbow.

Cecil muttered something under his breath, too quiet for her ears to catch, before saying, "You should know him: Viktor."

Her finger tightened on the trigger, releasing an arrow, which flew across the room and thudded into the wall with enough force that a bit of stone crumbled away. Her body froze, muscles tensing, though she knew not why.

"Jesus Christ, lass!" Cecil exclaimed angrily. "Careful with what you're playing with there!" He looked thoroughly frazzled; the arrow had zipped by his face, missing him by inches.

Selene lowered the crossbow slowly, staring numbly at the wall. _Viktor_, she thought, unable to say his name now. A confusing array of emotions swept through her, almost leaving her breathless.

In truth, she had not thought of Viktor with too much detail lately. And had she at all, it had been in his final moments, until she had cleaved his skull in half with his own mighty sword. She had not, however, thought of his past doings. Apparently, he'd been toying with other vampires as well, not just her.

"I knew I would be fairly safe during the Lady Amelia's reign," said Cecil, oblivious to Selene's discomfort right now. "And I knew Marcus was to be awakened soon, so that would be another century that I could go about things without looking over my shoulder all the time to say." He gave a weak chuckle. "I just hope neither of them will ever find out."

". . . They won't," said Selene quietly, her voice almost a whisper. "Viktor's dead."

* * *

The mansion was located about an hour north of downtown Budapest. If traveled by car, that is. Intimidating wrought-iron gates stood outside what was Viktor's estate. Security cameras that were mounted scoped Kraven out thoroughly before allowing him entrance. He slipped in through the gates and made his way to the entrance of the mansion.

Ordoghaz loomed before him, a sprawling Gothic edifice that dated back to the days when feudal warlords ruled Hungary with fists of iron. Jagged spires and battlements rose atop its looming stone walls, while majestic columns and pointed arches adorned its brooding facade.

_Home sweet home,_ thought Kraven with no enthusiasm at all. Double oak doors stood before him, and he pushed them open, entering the mansion, seeing what his fate would be. He braced himself.

As it turned out, the gods had smiled upon him tonight.

Vampires, though not in the way he would have expected, were in the grand room. Though this was not in their usual, casual way. There was no light conversation, no light tinkling as vampires touched glasses of plasma to another's. Instead, panic seemed to be the norm here, for the immortals gathered were wide-eyed and frantic.

There he stood, filthy, bloody, and sweaty, but he saw with relief and a bit of smugness, that they welcomed him back.

"Lord Kraven!"

"Lord regent!"

"Are you all right, sir?"

"We've been worried!"

Frantic voices exploded from almost every vampire. He saw two Death Dealers rush up, and was fearful for a minute, but relaxed when he saw it was two of his own, or rather Soren's team. Dylan and Mason came to his side, making sure fretful vampires did not bother Kraven. He was glad that these two were here. Needing silence, he raised a hand.

"All will be explained in due time, do not worry. Just allow me to . . . get myself together."

He knew that probably baffled his fellow vampires, but they seemed to see it as understandable, given his current appearance. They parted, clearing a path to the staircase that led to his grand salon. He and the two accompanying vampires rushed to it.

Kraven, once in his room, turned to face the two vampires who looked confused, but ready to do what he said. Good. He needed to be heard, and to not be questioned.

"Listen to me, and listen to me closely," he hissed. "Whatever you do now, it is of the upmost importance. You have to track someone down for me, and bring them here."

"Who, lord Kraven?" asked Mason.

"_Selene,_" he said through clenched teeth.

Dylan asked hesitantly, "Why?"

"That bitch has betrayed me!" Kraven thundered, spewing the worst of his bile about Selene. "Not only me, but this entire_ coven!_ She is consorting with a lycan!" (He just had to get it out there, that she chose a lycan over him. The fact that Kraven had been trying to get Selene by his side had not been exactly secretive.)

Dylan and Mason looked thoroughly surprised, shocked, and horrified. Kraven paced around the room, practically stomping in his path.

"She has lied, and schemed! And, just recently," he manically eyed his Death Dealers. "she killed an Elder. _Viktor_."

The two vampires each gave a small start at this news. They new that Viktor had been awakened ahead of schedule by Selene, but they didn't know that he had been killed by her. Kraven righteously knew that now, if they had any doubt or allegiance with Selene, it was shot straight to hell.

Mason spoke up. "You wish us to bring her back here?"

"Yes," said Kraven. "Bring her here, to me. Treat her like any enemy though. And anyone helping here, anyone in the same room with her, be sure to kill her." He paused. "Oh, if you happen to come across that lycan, her consort, kill him, and bring me his head on a plate."

The two vampires nodded their assent, excepting their demanding task.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**A/N: Whew! That chapter seemed really long! **

**Anyways, I threw in a lot of stuff because things are gonna start to heat up, as you can hopefully see. Kraven hates Selene, who is mad at Michael, who doesn't know what he's doing. It's a big mess.**

**Hopefully, you guys are finding this enjoyable, else I'm gonna feel really stupid. And, as always, can I PLEASE HAVE A REIVEW?**

**Happy Holidays, guys! Hope you have a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. :)**

**I apologize if my chapters aren't coming quickly. Even though it is the holidays still, I have been very busy. Ironically enough, when my break is over and I'm back in the hellhole of school, chapters will probably be coming much faster. Funny how that works out, huh? So, chapters for this story and my "Second Chances" story which seemed to be popular right away, go figure, are in the works, so please bear with me. **

**My New Year resolution is to have chapters done efficiently and quickly, so wish me luck. :-)**

**Thanks for reading~ **


	10. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Forgive and Forget**

MIchael sighed.

It was dark, night had fallen over the forest. Still in his hybrid form, he still lounged on the tree branch. His new, strong eyes had no problem seeing the smallest things out here. Before, he would have thought he would have been blinded by this darkness, but his eyes separated every particle, providing him a detailed layout of his surroundings.

_It comes in handy to be a freak,_ he thought wryly.

His senses were probably as keen as a wolf's; which was particularly true, since he was half-lycan. His nose caught the scent of the icy wilderness around him; the scent of the trees and their frozen bark; the musky scent animals that snuggled up in their homes and nests to get warm; and way, way off, he smelled the scent of the lycans.

Of course, he had thought, it might have been from earlier today, the scent still lingering about. But he still worried if they were still around, choosing the right time to attack, waiting, planning.

_They can plan, _he thought in grim determination, _and I will be ready._

He knew that Selene would be, too. Ready to fight those damned lycanthropes, to fight them off. He had to wonder, why were they after them in the beginning? Was it merely because they stumbled across their scent, and the hunt inevitably began? Or was there another reason for the chase? He had to think, that if there was, then they would have to be on red-alert. Even werewolves could be sneaky.

As if on cue, his body tensed, his senses ranged out; searching. His nose picked up that same scent, but it was old, not fresh. He heard no heavy paw thuds slamming on the ground, or the heavy, excited breathing of the enemy lycans. Yet, he was still tense, in a half-crouched position, and unbelievably wary.

_I need to chill,_ he thought vaguely. _But Selene said something about me being half-lycan . . . that means they know when one of their kind is near; even I am only half of it now. They could here, either by our scent, or by presence_. A small surge of anger coursed through him. _We could be attacked, just because of me_.

For what seemed like a few more moments, he still searched, but when that seemed to bear no fruit, he huffed angrily and settled back onto the branch, tilting his head back to rest it on the hard bark.

Michael let his mind roam. He thought about the forest, how alive it had seemed throughout the day. He thought about Selene. He thought about his old human life, which seemed so unimportant now. Everything he was now experiencing was so fresh and new, despite the dangerous of events from before. He thought about the new quest that would be coming up. He thought Selene some more. He thought about a bunch of other stuff, but in the end, his thoughts always strayed to Selene.

He wasn't mad anymore. His temper had run its course and finally simmered down. He knew that she was determined, and very stubborn, so no matter what he said, it would not deter her from her course. Once her mind was set, that was it. Michael knew she could take care of herself, but a part of him despised letting her go off on some mission, into some place that pretty much guaranteed death, for mortals and immortals alike. So why go? Because she was curious, and he was confused. He wanted to see what the hell was so important, but . . . there was also the feeling that if he didn't go,then he would never see her again.

_Selene's all I have left_, he realized. _All I have in this world. If she's gone, what do I do?_

Truth is, he had come to depend on her, care for her. Something was going on with him, some sort of relationship existed. Question was what was it. He remembered the time she had kissed him the first time, but it had been a trick, just to handcuff him to a freaking chair. The second time, when they met up in the midst of a heated battle between the vampires and lycans, it had felt so different. Like the fight surrounding them was outside of their own little private bubble. It was then, he realized, that he didn't care if she was a vampire, or that his life had completely done a 360. He didn't care about anything, as long as he was with her, had her.

Did Michael love her?

_Shit, _he thought.

Love was something he'd felt once, and then felt it die with Samantha. He hadn't dare go into that territory again, knowing it brought both pleasure, and pain. Cowardly yes, but also self-preserving.

Maybe it was time he would go into the territory again, go into the unknown, as Selene was so willingly to do.

_Maybe I will do it_, he thought, standing up and stretching, before hopping off the tree branch and landing with a cat's grace. _Maybe I'll risk it_.

_And I don't really care what the consequences are_.

* * *

Selene sat on the bed in the last room at the end of the hall.

She had her legs folded on it, having kicked off her leather boots, per Cecil's request really. The vampire had been shocked at the rearranging of his living room, and didn't appreciate the dirt they had tracked in. Selene had frowned at his neat-freak behavior, but that had been early, when she had still been feeling numb.

Back in the basement, where Cecil kept his supply of weapons in case he ever got attacked, Selene had recounted the story that had led up to Viktor's demise. Cecil had stared at her with a stoic air, as if he really didn't care about it, but when she was finished, he had sighed heavily.

"It's about time his sins caught up with him," Cecil had said.

These words circled around in her head now, as she came back to the present, and she shook her head. It's about time his sins caught up with him. What did that mean? she had wondered. Now, she knew, or at least she came to her own justifiable conclusion. Viktor had done much in his many centuries of existing, and now, in Cecil's eyes, he saw it right that he be killed.

_What is it the they call it?_ thought Selene. Karma. _As you do onto others, it is done onto you._

That fit it all too well.

The book in her lap had been on the same page for the past five minutes. She stared at is yellowed pages, but her brain just didn't seem to be absorbing the information. With a resigned sigh, she closed it and set it on the bed. Night had fallen, some part of her had registered that. She could go out, as Cecil had done a little while ago. He hadn't been very clear as to where he was going, just that he had "business" to take care of. Selene wondered if she should leave the house, but yet part of her wished to stay. It would be safe for her to be outside again. Well, for one reason. The danger of sunlight had passed, but what of the danger of the lycans, or enemy vampires?

As she fretted, a small crease forming between her eyebrows, she heard the front door open, heard the wind blow in until the door closed. Selene listened as footsteps echoed down the hall, getting closer, until Michael appeared, hybrid attributes melting back into his skin.

It _shouldn't_ have happened, she _shouldn't_ have felt it, but the rush of relief that surged through was alarming as it was unstoppable. She had grown worried, though she hated admitting it to herself. Michael had rushed out of the house, anger radiating off him almost like heat. Their argument had spurred fury in both of them, but it seemed to have melted. In his eyes, she saw warmth, not anger.

"Hey," he said, almost shyly.

She slid off the bed silently and walked toward him stopping, only a bit away from him. His being shirtless didn't bother as much as she thought it would be. His chest had a sparse sprinkling of light brown hair on it, the skin a light shade of tan, darker than her own albino color.

Selene nodded in greeting. A chasm had formed between them after the argument, growing wider as the afternoon hours passed, but now it shrunk to an ever-smaller size.

"Selene," Michael said after a few moments of staring. "Look, about before, I really am sorry . . . i shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

She exhaled lightly. "And I shouldn't have been so foolish. I know you wish to not go, and I accept that, and . . . your concern."

"Yeah," he mumbled, seeming to have taken an interest in the floorboards.

"But Michael," she continued. "I have to go. I have to see this. I have to know _why_ I am connected to it. It's a need to know."

He looked up and smiled crookedly, in spite of himself. "And a right to know."

She agreed vehemently. It _was_ a right to know. If she was concerned with it, if she was some kind of _heir_, or whichever, then of course it was a right to know.

"I'm just sorry that it came to this," she muttered, mainly to herself, glancing away.

Michael exhaled heavily. "Look, it's not that I don't want you to go. Okay, scratch that; I _don't_ want you to go. Alone. I said I'd go, and hell will freeze over if I say I like it. You're going into the unknown." He paused. "But I'm going. I'm sticking with you."

Her eyes widened. "Oh . . . Michael . . . you don't have to do that." She was nearly stunned by his decision.

"I don't, but I want to do it."

"It's foolish."

"I know." He shrugged.

"You don't really care, do you?" She had noticed it; he didn't care what happened to _himself_, but what happened to _her_.

"Not really. _You_ don't seem to either," he accused suddenly. "Not caring about your own safety."

Her eyes flashed. "Because I don't need to."

"Bugger that.

"Bugger _you_."

They glared now, eyes flashing, breathing heavily. Unbelievably, even as they argued, that chasm still seemed to be growing smaller. Selene wondered vaguely why that was . . .

She stepped closer the same time Michael did. Naked emotion hung in the air between them. She could hear his heart beating, now quickly in excitement. Such a vital sound, she noted dimly. Why notice his heart, when it was his eyes holding her captured. She felt as if in a trance . . .

They were close together, chests almost touching. Some emotion flashed across Michael's face before he pulled her up against him, staring at her face. Selene raised her hands and puller his mouth to his.

His lips were soft, warm. At first, Michael seemed surprised, but then he went into the kiss, responding. His arms were around her waist and hers around her neck before they even seemed to consider the action. Selene's hands traveled from around Michael's neck to his naked chest. His skin was hot, and nearly irresistible to touch.

Selene rather felt than heard his low moan as they kissed. She was careful, careful to not bite his lip with her fangs, but Michael was responding . . . so passionately . . . it was hard to remember to be careful.

_Passion, yes this is it,_ she thought. The chasm disappeared altogether, and it was a relief . . . to not be distant, to not have that distance between them . . .

Michael broke the kiss gently, only to bend down and kiss her neck. Selene felt as if she was entering a pool of lust, feeling his lips and teeth softly kiss and nibble. How odd, it seemed, that she the vampire was like this, finding it pleasurable to have lips at her neck . . .

Again, Michael pulled back. He was breathing heavily, his face flushed. Selene touched his warm cheek, and she had to wonder . . . what was this feeling in her now. Neither anger nor frustration, sorrow or hatred. Something more . . . something better . . .

Love.

His eyes searched hers, questioning, wondering, seeming to wonder the same question that she was wondering.

_Are we really going to do this?_

Selene made up her mind for both of them when she pulled Michael's head down, and pressed her lips to his, and he helplessly gave in.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, in case you don't know, but here comes my dreaded sex scene. I'll let you know, but I suck at it, at least I think I do. I mean, I'm a teenager, hello, still innocently youthful. But I have written scenes like this before, maybe 'cause I have a dirty mind. (Ha-ha)**

**Anyways, THIS is why I rated this story M in the beginning; this scene was coming up. And yes, it will be, just not yet, next chapter. I probably rushed into it, but I didn't know how to further, to get ride of that "chasm" between them. So . . . yeah, sorry if it's bad. **

**Anyways, at school, the dreaded PSSA's are coming up. School has been bad for me lately, so I apologize if my writing isn't up to par, or if the stories aren't updated frequently. **

**Wish me luck on the tests, and I hope you enjoyed this!**

**And of course, I'm asking for a review. Please?**


	11. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Working it Out**

"So you failed the mission."

"I didn't know what to except exactly."

"But you still failed."

" . . . Yes."

The Alpha sat in a wobbly old chair in the dimly lit office. In the room, a small window looked out at the goings on in downtown Budapest. Standing by the window, looking out it with intense gray eyes, was the person he had to report to; the one charge of the Alpha.

Of course this did not go over well with him at all.

A few hours ago he had left the forest, loping back to civilization. It was dark out now, night had fallen long ago. The city lights had illuminated the way, but he didn't need their help; he knew the way back to the hideout well enough.

In human form, the Alpha was a big, six-foot tall man with a crew cut. Steel bands of muscles flexed through his arms, and rippled through his torso. He wore a leather jacket and jeans now, simple attire. His big hands were clenched into fists, though he knew that he should not be angry, not with being in the same room with _this_ person.

At the window, that person sighed. "It should have been simple," they stated. "How difficult is it to capture one person?"

"You didn't state the specifics of the mission, if I do say so myself," the Alpha grumbled.

"So you blame me, is that it?" Their was voice icy.

"No," The Alpha said clearly, his voice thick with an accent. "I do not blame you. But my men didn't know that a vampire would be there. And that _thing_! He wasn't even one of us!"

"Precisely why I needed him _captured_, Lance," Colleen said, whirling around, gray eyes blazing fiercely. "I _still_ need him captured. As soon as you round up another pack, you go out to those woods, you capture the boy, and you _bring him back_. Is that in anyway unclear?"

The Alpha glared at the floor, repressing the growl building in his throat. "No, ma'am."

Yes, a _female_ lycan. A female lycan who was in charge of the recent affairs now. After Lucian's body had been found in the bunker, the lycan horde had been in chaos; who would lead them now? Raze was dead as well, and Lance had stepped up to take his place, briefly being in charge. But Colleen, she had always been cool, calm and collected. She could always deal with things with a clear head, and she hardly ever lost her temper and changed form; only on rare occasion and that was when you were seriously screwed. It had been decided that she would be in charge of the pack, and thus she was their leader.

Though Lance thought she was not worth following.

Lance stood and glanced at his superior; she was gazing out the window once more. She was dressed in clothes similar to his, though more formfitting. Her midnight black hair blended in almost perfectly with her jacket, hanging down her back in a tangled mess. She was a beautiful lycan, one many males panted after, but they didn't have the balls to approach her in _that_ way. It was just as well, Colleen was almost as coldhearted as a vampire.

Lance opened his mouth to speak. "If we are successful in bringing back this guy, what are you going to do with him? Why is he so important?"

"Ask not and I tell you not," Colleen replied breezily. She turned and gave him an evil grin. "Just know that it will be all clear very shortly. Now go. Do not fail me, Lance."

"Of course, milady," he said, and turned and left the room.

* * *

Selene's undead heart beat wildly as her and Michael's kiss exited the bounds of just chaste and innocent. She pressed herself against him, almost melting into him, his skin was so warm against her own icy skin. She was faintly surprised that her fangs didn't knick his lips, but realized he was being careful.

His hands were like iron clasps on her waist, allowing no escape, at least an easy one. She was glad that the need for breathing was not so drastic for her as it was for humans, else she would have passed out a while ago due to lack of oxygen. They hadn't broken apart yet.

_Why do I feel like this?_ she wondered. _Never before have I ever experienced this. But I've never known anyone like him._

It was true. Over the course of six hundred years, Selene had the occasional carnal encounter with another vampire. She was no virgin. Six hundred years was guaranteed to make her lonely, and curious. She had made love with others, but that had been a no-strings-attached, curiosity sating encounter.

She had shared her body . . . but never her heart.

Was she willing to share both with Michael?

As if he sensed her uncertainty, Michael finally broke their kiss and pressed his forehead to hers, breathing heavily.

"Selene," he breathed, huskily, his eyes boring into hers.

"Michael, I don't know about this," she murmured. She could tell that they had been heading to something, and she knew perfectly well what. It wasn't hard to tell that he was ready, what with his arousal pressing against her. "I think we should just . . . think about it."

She saw him blink, and then he took a step back. "Right," he ran a hand through his now-messy hair; her hands had done a nice job of making it disheveled. "I just . . . damn, guess I got carried away."

"In your defense, it could be seen as a heat of the moment thing," she said, and saw him grin.

"Guess you're right," he muttered, then sighed. "Sorry. It got out of control."

"It's not your fault."

"Yeah, it kind of is. I was mad, and we were arguing . . . and then _that_ happened." Michael shook his head. "I lost it, kind of. But it was kind of is your fault, too."

Selene raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "And how is that, exactly?" She asked through clenched teeth.

He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not trying to set the blame on you, honest. It's" he looked away, not knowing how to phrase his words exactly it seemed. "Ah, how can I explain it? Well," he fixed his gaze on her again. "It's your scent."

Well, whatever Selene had been expecting as an answer it was not _that_. She felt surprise flicker across her face and the stiffness leave her shoulders.

"_My scent?_" she asked, puzzled.

"Yeah," Michael muttered. Was it her, or was he _blushing_? "See, ever since . . . you bit me, and I became this hybrid thing, I can smell people's scents. It's weird, I know. But . . . yours Selene," Michael inhaled deeply. "God, you smell good."

"Out of all the things I thought you would have said, Michael Corvin, I would never expected you to say how I _smell_," Selene said, feeling a small bubble of amusement burst out of her.

Michael backed away again. "I can't help it."

"I'm not saying it as a bad thing, and I didn't mean to laugh. I am sorry." She stepped forward and reached out to touch his arm, offering solace. "I understand what you're saying. It's just that nobody told me that before."

Michael smiled and took her hand in his, raised it his lips and kissed it. "You do smell really good, you know."

"Is that what gets you turned on?" she couldn't help but ask.

"What does that mean?"

"It wasn't hard to tell," she said, her eyes flickering down up very quickly.

He exhaled in exasperation. "Again, not my fault! I can't help it that the male body is designed that way, and I know because I've studied anatomy. Desire is more obvious with guys, dammit."

Selene raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. "Desire, eh?"

Again, he touched his forehead to hers, his anger melting, if there had been any. She thought maybe it was a touchy subject with him, something that he wasn't too eager to discuss. But, he couldn't deny the chemistry between them, she knew this, and she couldn't either.

"I feel something for you, Selene." Michael said softly. "I don't what it is. My body seems to know, but my mind doesn't seem up to speed. I mean, I don't care what you are, or what I am. So what if you're a vampire, and I'm a . . . freak, or hybrid. I just don't know if I'm ready yet."

Selene nodded when he was done, fully understanding what he meant. He was still possibly suffering from the loss of his previous love. It wasn't something hard to imagine. Hadn't she, Selene, killed lycans for centuries, to avenge her family's brutal slaughter? Losing one you love affects people in strange ways, whether it be revenge or unable to move on. But whichever it was, she would accept Michael's reason.

"I'm not rushing you," she said quietly. "What just happened was a spur of the moment thing. I can wait, I have much time."

"Same here." He smiled. "But I don't want to leave you alone."

She heard an undercurrent in those words. He wasn't just talking about their next . . . adventure. Did he mean . . .

"You're not going to latch onto me like a pup, are you?" Selene asked Michael teasingly.

"No," he laughed, wrapping his warm arms around her in a hug, which baffled Selene slightly. A hug? This was something she was not familiar with. But with Michael, it felt . . . nice. "I'm not that pathetic. But . . . being without you . . . I dunno, I don't like thinking about it. If anything happened to you . . . I don't know what I would do."

Selene pulled back and looked into his eyes, now troubled, hearing the pain in his voice.

"Michael, you would be fine without me," she said, knowing full well that he knew that he could go on if anything happened to her.

"I would be, but I'd be alone."

Alone. The simple word had much more meaning to her. She was all too familiar with loneliness; it was like her shadow, following her throughout the centuries. She had gotten used to it . . . but now, if she were to be away from Michael, if they were ever separated . . . and it happened to be irreversible . . .

_I'd be alone all over again_ . . . she thought sadly. _Just when I found him. And . . ._

_I'm tired of being alone._

Selene shook her head. "All right. You win . . . this time."

Michael grinned and kissed her briefly. "Never thought you'd be the one to give in."

"I didn't. I just don't want to get in another argument." she said quickly in defense. "I'd like to avoid _those_ consequences. You know, you can be as stubborn as an ass."

"It's what I do."

She laughed, again, feeling her eyes widen. Never before had she felt such mirth, such a good sense of well-being.

"Cecil will be back some time tonight, and I want to tell him thank you for giving us shelter here, as sudden as it was. He was actually gracious, which is very odd for him." Selene said.

"Are we going soon, then?" asked Michael.

She nodded.

"We'll leave in the morning."

* * *

***A/N: A relatively light chapter, I imagine. (Hey no one got killed, yay!) Due to a request and personal interest, I threw in a female lycan. So, it should be interesting to see how that goes, huh? **

**Now Michael and Selene's part in this chapter, I wanted them to discuss things. I wanted Michael to voice his troubles, because he needs to stop thinking about them. And, the whole Selene-isn't-a-virgin stuff, well, I figured that she would indeed be curious. Why not? **

**Anyways, it's not my best, and I really am saying that because I wrote this while doing Physics homework. (Can you imagine how freaking hard that is? My brain hurts!) School is seemingly trying to kill me, but I'm wringing out the chapters slowly, so I apologize for the hold up, my dear readers. So, please, please, please review, and I hope you did enjoy it, thought it's not good . . . oh well!**

**Thanks~ **


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